Liquid Sample
by An Orange Peon
Summary: Over the waters of Manhattan, a living weapon is reduced to a puddle of liquid flesh by nuclear fire. In another world, a princess calls for the one who is to be her familiar. Whether through coincidence or fate, their lives are now inextricably intertwined and their destinies changed forever.
1. Rituals: Part 1

_Author's Note: This is a rewrite of an old fic of mine._

 **Chapter 1**

Henrietta paced her room with impatience exuding from every step and gesture that she made. Irritating. There was no other word to describe the current situation. She already knew and understood that as princess of Tristain she had certain responsibilities. And as superfluous as some of them may seem, it was undoubtedly vital for her to fulfill those obligations if she wanted to maintain her appearances as heiress to the throne.

That, however, made it all the more _aggravating_ because it meant that she could not get out of said duties to take care of more pressing matters, or at least take part in more enjoyable activities.

"Your Highness," Cardinal Mazarin said, "please sit down."

Henrietta ignored him. She walked over to the window and looked outside at the servants setting up chairs and tables before a sturdy stage of gleaming white marble adorned with rich silks and velvet. Nearby, many of the students of the academy were lounging on the grass in the school's uniform, basking in the warm sunlight and chatting among themselves. Further away, beyond the Academy's limits, she could see carriages slowly driving towards the school.

"Princess Henrietta," Mazarin said again.

"What?" Henrietta finally replied, a tad more rudely than was strictly appropriate.

"It is unbecoming for Your Highness to behave this way," Mazarin said with grandfatherly patience. "Sit, and wait."

"I can't help it," Henrietta huffed, though she did as he bade and sat on a chair across from him. "We've already spent _hours_ in here, locked up like prisoners. I would at least like to go get some fresh air."

"If it's fresh air you wish, then open the window."

"You know that's not what I meant," Henrietta snapped. "I want to go outside."

"And you already know why you cannot do that. The amount of commotion it would cause among the staff and students would interfere with the preparations."

Henrietta didn't deny those words. Though she did not like it, she could not honestly disagree with him. It did not, however, change the fact that she spoke the truth as well. They had been provided with the finest guest room the Academy of Tristain had to offer, and it made for a fine cage. With a sigh, Henrietta stood up and went over to the window again.

All this would have been so much more bearable if she had been permitted to at least visit her best friend, Louise. The fact that she was so close to her, yet unable to actually see her, was almost maddening. She had considered calling Louise to her room, but that idea had been rejected by Mazarin. A princess, he said, could not be seen to so blatantly favor one of her subjects over all the rest. The rumors would only hurt her in the long run. There was a wisdom there that Henrietta could not refute. But, again, it did not mean she had to like it.

"They look like they're having fun," Henrietta murmured longingly.

"Yes," Mazarin said. "But such is the price of being royalty. One's personal pleasure is of secondary concern when compared to the good of the nation."

"It is a fate I would not wish upon anyone. A heavy burden."

"I have no doubt you will bear that burden well, when you ascend to the throne, as your father did before you."

"Mmm..." Henrietta looked back at Mazarin. "Don't you think that this is poor timing?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow, Your Highness."

"With so much more pressing concerns at hand, do you not believe that our time would be better spent on those issues? Compared to that, attending this" – she gestured outside – "seems like a frivolous waste of time."

"It is precisely because we are in such uncertain times that we are here. It is not the act of summoning in and of itself that is important. What matters is that it is traditional for the heir to the throne to participate in the Academy's Familiar Summoning Festival. By maintaining such traditions even in the face of adversity, we reassure the people that despite the hardships that might await Tristain, its rulers will remain its infallible guardians."

"That seems... deceitful."

Mazarin smiled. "Like war, the language of politics is deceit."

Henrietta stared at the carriages nearing the Academy. They were closer now, though at the rate they were proceeding they were still at least half an hour away. Yet, such a pace did not seem at all lazy. Rather, there was a certain air to it, like a royal procession. It made sense, since each, she knew, was carrying the families of the second year students. That meant that they were all nobles of at least some importance. Such nobles had a tendency to always behave as one born of the highest pedigree, or at least put up a pretense of such when they thought that someone might be watching them.

Henrietta sighed as she watched the dust rise up. "A heavy burden, indeed."

* * *

Above the waters off the coast of Manhattan, fire with the heat of a newborn sun bloomed outwards. Its blaze boiled the ocean. Its heat incinerated the clouds. And all that suffered the misfortune of bearing its wrath were burned to nothingness.

But the weapon meant to kill millions failed. The innocent were spared from perdition's flames; the guilty went free from its retribution. There were no victims this day. No victims, save one.

Alex Mercer screamed as a pain like he had never known before seized him, but his voice was lost in the explosion. He was swallowed whole by the searing flames. In an instant, his helicopter was vaporized, his clothes burned, his flesh melted and slagged, and his very bones were carbonized. But he was no ordinary being. Even as the fire continued to destroy his body, his body continuously regenerated, escaping annihilation by the barest thread. It was a vicious cycle, yet not one without an end. For while he was strong, the power of a nuclear weapon was stronger still. Soon, he could recover no more.

Alex dropped into the boiling ocean. No traces of his former human-like form existed now. The fires had purged him of that. It reduced him into nothing more than a glob of slime, a stain soaking in the irradiated sea water. And when all seemed lost, when it seemed that even this remnant of the Monster of Manhattan would be erased, the fires vanished, its energy having finally run out. In its place, drifting alone along the scorching waves, only the slime remained.

* * *

Sympathy. That was what the Princess of Tristain felt for her best friend. She had always known of Louise's ability for magic – or lack thereof – but even she had never expected the youngest daughter of the Valliere family to summon a _human._

Was such a thing even possible?

Strictly speaking, the summoning spell merely summoned the familiar most suited for the mage. Nowhere in that definition did it say that it was impossible to summon another person. But the fact remained that this had never before happened in history. Was that not proof that something had gone wrong with Louise's spell?

Any further contemplation was interrupted by the roaring laughter that sprang up from both the other students and their family, who comprised the bulk of the audience. Anger filled Henrietta. How dare they laugh at her friend? What right did they have to do so?

Damn them. Then damn the crown for preventing her from supporting Louise.

To her credit, Louise bore the humiliation with a dignity that Henrietta could only envy. She sealed the contract with a very confused boy and moved off stage to allow the next person to summon their own familiar. And as Louise was the last of the students, that meant that it was finally Henrietta's turn to step up onto the stage.

The princess stood from the front row table that she sat at with Mazarin and walked up a red carpet trimmed with cloth-of-gold with a grace forged through many, many, many, _many_ long and monotonous hours of practice. As she walked past the students who stood at attention off the side of the stage, Henrietta glanced at Louise from the corner of her eye. She gave a brief smile that she hoped was encouraging before ascending to the stage proper.

As a triangle class water mage, Henrietta already had a rough idea of the type of familiar she would be summoning. It would be either some type of aquatic or semiaquatic beast for sure, which was why four pairs of servants brought up two large tubs on stage. One was then filled with freshwater; the other with saltwater. They were simple precautions. If she should happen to summon a familiar that could not survive outside of water, then these would facilitate it until it could be transported to a more appropriate environment.

Such cases were not common. Rare was the time when water mages would summon a totally aquatic animal, but it was not unheard of. Her own grandfather had summoned a shark, which promptly died of suffocation because they had not taken proper measures beforehand. Ever since, it had been the norm for water mages to have an appropriately sized body of water on hand for their familiar.

That said, she did not hope to summon a shark. She wanted something more convenient, even if it was something small like a frog. On the other hand, she could not afford to summon something so meek either. For though Mazarin had called her participation in this festival a tradition, he failed to mention just _why_ it was tradition.

The practice stretched back to the early days of Tristain's history. At that time, the political atmosphere was particularly tense, with many disgruntled nobles conspiring to overthrow then-King Charles the First. In order to stabilize the state of affairs and prevent a civil war, a show of strength had been required. Thus, King Charles called for the worst of his detractors to his court and proceeded to summon a mature sea dragon and successfully contracted it as his familiar.

While this had not been enough to fully silence his critics and detractors, it did quiet them. To summon such a powerful familiar, the scourge of the oceans, required an immense amount of personal power and talent. It was proof of King Charles's strength, and it was one less thing that his enemies could attack him for.

Henrietta did not know whether or not that story was true, but if it was she could only imagine what a nightmare of logistics of having to actually take care of the beast was. Not only were they notoriously violent and territorial creatures, sea dragons regularly gorged themselves on nearly half their body weight and required a vast amount of water to truly thrive. Rumor had it that the lake behind the palace, the largest in the country and one of the largest in all the continent, was actually an artificial one manufactured to house the dragon.

In the end, that was what her participation in this festival was: a show of strength.

Perhaps it was for that reason that she found the entire ordeal to be downright bothersome. She did not care for showing off whatever power she might have, though she could not deny that it was important that she do so, especially with her reputation.

Henrietta was not a deaf woman. She knew exactly what the people said about her. They called her the "Flower of Tristain." They hailed her as the most beautiful woman in all the country. They also knew her to be a weak princess, and if she wanted to have a successful reign as queen one day, then, like King Charles, she needed to change that thinking here and now. She needed to begin earning respect.

Henrietta raised her crystal scepter and spoke the sacred spellwords.

* * *

He was drowning. Dying. The water burned his flesh and strove to pull him beneath the waves. He did not want to die, but what could he do? He no longer had the energy to even move, let alone regenerate from his weakened state.

With nothing but a little time left to him, Alex began thinking back on his life. No, not _his_ life. He himself was but three weeks old, and nearly all of it had been spent fighting. Fighting to regain his memories, though they were not truly his; fighting to take revenge; fighting to obtain an identity; fighting to save lives. So much fighting. So many struggles. But there were memories within of more peaceful times.

David had been a happily married man with two beautiful children. With a good job and excellent relationships with his friends, colleagues, and relatives, his future had been bright. His children adored him. His wife loved him. His had been a life anyone would envy.

Alexandra was a septuagenarian, and though she, like Alex, had been nearing death, she had not feared. She had found comfort and strength in her friends, her husband, and her belief in God. Her days were full of peace and prayer and quiet joy.

Sung-woon was foreign exchange student who had come to America with big dreams and ambitions. He was going to graduate from medical school, become a successful doctor, and earn a large enough income to support his aging parents and his girlfriend back home, who he intended to propose to once he graduated and began his career. Eventually, after saving enough money, he would retire and travel the globe with his wife and write a book on their travels.

Even Alex Mercer – the _real_ Alex Mercer – had at least a few happy memories. His science experiments was one. The times when Dana managed to drag him away from said experiments in order to go skating or watch movies or do whatever else normal kids their age did was another.

Those memories, along with hundreds of others filled Alex's mind. They were not his, true, and the fact that he had them at all was proof of the fact that he had been the one to murder those people, but even so he allowed himself to wallow in their memories; to share in a peace and joy that he had never known.

Was this, he wondered, what it was like to have one's life flash before their eyes?

 _Damn._ He didn't want to die. He truly did not wish to die. Was it wrong of him to think so when he had been responsible for so many deaths? Perhaps, yet it did not change his feelings. To live. He wanted to _live._

Light blazed forth like the rising of the sun. With what little sensory organs Alex had remaining, he noticed the shimmering gate that appeared before him. Was it a hallucination? A mirage? Or was it something else? He did not know, but the water flowed towards it as if it was an open drain, carrying Alex with it, through it, down it...

All around him, light vanished. Heat vanished. Sound vanished. Everything vanished, save for the awareness that he was falling and falling and falling. And when light burst forth once more, he found himself on solid ground.

* * *

It was wet.

That was the first thing that Henrietta thought upon seeing her new familiar: A piece of ruddy black-and-red slime soaked foul with sea water. She could not make heads or tails of exactly _what_ this thing was, and in fact questioned whether it was an animal at all. Suddenly, she became acutely aware of the deafening silence that had seized the atmosphere around her. She did not need to look up to know that everyone was staring at her. She could feel it like a physical force.

This was not what she had intended to do when she came here this day. She was supposed to have summoned a decent familiar, one that could garner a quiet respect, and go about making niceties with some of the most important nobles in the country. Near the back of the audience, a single muffled snicker resounded like thunder. More followed, and Henrietta's face flushed a bright pink. Was this how Louise felt, she wondered? If so, then she had to commend her fortitude. It was taking all that she had to not simply flee in shame.

From its perch upon its master's shoulder, a crow fluttered to the stage and began picking at the slime. The scavenger had found an easy meal.

That was the trigger.

Though none dared to laugh as openly as they had to Louise – Henrietta still being the princess, such an action would be enough to charge them for _lèse-majesté_ – quiet chuckles and snorts began coming from all directions. Henrietta swallowed a lump down her throat and kept her gaze affixed upon the slime, her _familiar_ , and the crow pecking at it.

It was why she was the first to notice that something was off.

Thin tendrils of the slime stuck to the crow's beak. It chirped and flapped its wings as it tried to hop away from the offending material. In doing so, its feathers lightly brushed against its would be meal. More tendrils attached themselves to the bird's pinions like glue.

That was when the bird realized that something was amiss and began squawking in alarm. It struggled more vigorously, striving to escape, but the slime's hold on it was strong. Slowly, it dragged its prey closer to its main body, the formless mass that now seemed to tremble in excitement.

Henrietta was dimly aware that the laughter had ceased as they, like her, watched in almost horrified fascination at the act of predation happening right before their eyes. In a rational part of her mind, the princess couldn't help but wonder just _how,_ if at all, the slime planned to consume its prey. From what she could tell, it had no mouth. How would it eat something even larger than itself?

That question was answered in short order. It did not eat the crow like other living beings would. Instead, like a swarm of ants, the slime began crawling up the crow's body once it had been brought close enough. All the while, the bird unrelentingly screeched in panic. It was only when the slime had encased the bird perfectly within itself that the sounds ceased abruptly. For a second, the slime stood still like a clay model of the bird it had seized. And then it shuddered and collapsed in on itself, once more returning to a formless mass, the crow gone.

But it was different now. Having had a meal, the slime was much larger, at least as wide as the width of Henrietta's own shoulders. And the gurgling. There was a sound like that of a ravenous stomach rumbling from the slime, coinciding with the bubbling of its surface.

Everyone watched with bated breath as the reaction continued. Henrietta herself leaned in with curiosity. She almost fell backwards with an alarmed cry when something burst out of her familiar, almost as if it had been deliberately trying to scare her.

Not that it succeeded. No, of course not. A princess _never_ allowed her emotions to seize control of her like that, not even for an instant.

It did come very close, though.

Henrietta took a second to recompose herself with a deep breath and then took a careful look at the protruding thing. To her great surprise – and disgust – it was a human hand. A hand that had been flayed of its skin and left with only rotting meat attached to the bones, certainly, but a hand nevertheless.

The bony fingers clacked together and slapped down on the marble stage with a loud wet sound. _Splunk!_ Using that as an anchor, it pushed itself upwards. Then, just like a person pulling himself free from a pool of water, a man rose.

The head came first. Like the hand, it too was rotting and grotesque. Distantly, Henrietta heard the sound of screams and some weaker stomached nobles hurling up whatever snacks had been provided for them earlier. Eyeballs rolled in the slime creature's lidless sockets while its jaw opened and shut in short, rapid succession, uttering a death rattle like the hiss of a snake as it took great gasping breaths. Its nose was missing and cheek-flesh ripped apart to show the white of the bones beneath.

After the head came the body, if it could be called that. Less than flesh and blood, a veritable skeleton struggled to rise. As bare as it was, one could see the distinct lack of organs that all living things had. It made Henrietta question whether this thing was truly alive, though rationally she knew that it must be.

The body itself was supported by a spindly pair of legs, which threatened to give out at the passing of the slightest breeze. Predictably, the skeleton fell to its hands and knees. And that was when the creature... man... _whatever_ it was surprised Henrietta once more.

It began healing.

What little flesh remained on its form began spreading. It stretched over its skeletal structure and covered it in a pale, almost transparent membrane. Thicker flesh and new organs began forming under this skin until its body was not simply a skin covered skeleton, but an actual human body. And then it stopped, as if unable to continue further.

It was not a perfect recovery, anyone could see that just by looking, but it was a vast improvement. Where once the man before her had been a mere skeleton of rotting flesh, he was now an emaciated wastrel. For all appearances, he was a man on the verge of death by starvation. His skin was stretched taut along his form, his features sunken in. Only the shallow breathing indicated that he was still alive, though unconscious.

For a moment, Henrietta stood perplexed on how to proceed. It was clear that this man needed medical attention, and fast. Yet, he was also her familiar. That meant that she needed to seal the contract. But it seemed somehow... wrong to do so to an unconscious, perhaps even dying, man.

Or was it even a man? Men, after all, do not suddenly grow from slime.

Henrietta glanced towards Mazarin. He noticed and nodded faintly at her. With a sigh, Henrietta knelt down beside the stranger and bent her head over his. She placed her lips on his for a mere moment, but that moment was enough. The contract was sealed.


	2. Rituals: Part 2

**Chapter 2**

Upon entering the girl's room, Saito Hiraga's face flushed a bright red as she began to strip off her clothes. He ogled, not even aware that he was staring too hard until she was nearly halfway in the nude, and then he quickly averted his gaze. The girl in question seemed to pay him little mind, however, and his voice caught in his throat when he finally thought to protest.

She was a short girl, only just barely coming up to Saito's chest, and he himself was of only average height for a teenage boy. But when coupled with her smooth white skin, large clear eyes, her strawberry-blonde hair and a pretty face, she reminded Saito of a masterfully crafted porcelain doll. That only made his current situation seem all the more surreal, for the girl's name was Louise Francois Le Blanc de La Valliere, and, if she was to be believed, he was now her "familiar."

"H-hey!" he stammered when his tongue finally loosened long enough for him to protest. "What the heck do you think you're doing?"

The girl stopped and looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean? I'm obviously getting ready to change. Wearing the Academy's uniform for the summoning is one thing, but I can't very well wear it for the party. The princess and all the nobles will be there. I'll need a proper dress."

"Yeah, well, couldn't you have given me a warning first, or something, before you decided to get naked?" Saito demanded, his cheeks so warm that they felt like they were on fire. This was his first time ever seeing a girl naked in real life. He would have thought that it would have made him more excited, but strangely all it made him feel was embarrassed, more embarrassed by far than the girl herself, it seemed. "I could have left the room to give you some privacy, you know."

But the girl merely arched an eyebrow at him, as though he had said something strange. "What a peculiar familiar you are," she finally huffed, before she resumed stripping off the rest of her clothes, burning his cheeks anew.

Saito tried to clear his mind as he turned around. Even now, he had almost no idea what was going on. One second, he had been in Japan; the next, he was here, wherever "here" was. These people... this land... no, this _world._ As ridiculous as it sounded, he had to face the fact that he was on a different planet now, one where magic was not just a product of fantasy but reality. He had seen the proof when the girl in the white dress had conjured up that man-slime thing out of thin air, and further proof when he saw some of the truly freakish creatures that hung around the other mages' sides, things he knew for certain were not of Earth.

The blood drained from Saito's face then, as the full enormity of this realization suddenly struck him. _Oh my god,_ he thought. _How the heck am I supposed to get back home? What am I going to do if I'm stuck here forever? How am I supposed to_ survive _in this world?_

Saito had never once considered himself to be a particularly intelligent or skillful boy. His grades in school were fairly average, at best, and he had little knowledge of any practical skills that might serve him now. Depending on what this world was like, if he was stranded here, he would not be able to survive, not on his own at least.

Licking his lips with a dry tongue, Saito glanced back towards the diminutive girl, and said tentatively, "Um... Louise?"

"What?" she said without looking at him as she finished undressing, now clad only in small, white silk and lace underwear – a fact that he was acutely aware of, but current circumstances prevented him from feeling any thrill from the view.

"Is... is there any chance you could send me back home?" Saito did his best to keep desperation from leaking into his words, and failed. "Please?"

"No," the answer came like cold water being splashed across his face. "The summoning spell is only capable of doing just that: summoning. It can't send the familiar back."

"Oooh..." Saito groaned, crouching down and rocking back and forth on his heels while cradling his head in his arms. "Then I'm really stuck here."

Louise glanced down at Saito and pointed a finger at him. "You're my familiar now, which means that you're under my care. The only thing you need to concern yourself with is how to serve me."

"I just want to go home."

"This _is_ your home now."

 _No, my home is where my friends and family are,_ Saito nearly spat out in a sudden flash of anger, but managed to hold himself back, barely. In this strange new world, this girl before him was the only one he could rely on at the moment. It would be wise not to anger her, not here, not now. Instead, he asked, "What's a familiar, anyway?"

"They're creatures that mages contract and bind to them as their lifelong servants through the summoning spell," Louise answered promptly. "You do as I command and guard my person above all else. See those runes on the back of your left hand? Those are the proof that you belong to me."

"Oh." Saito felt like finding some corner to curl up and go to sleep in, praying that when he woke up all this would turn out to be a bad dream.

"Go fetch me my dress. It's in that closet over there," Louise said. Saito did as she commanded, walking over to the closet with a zombie-like gait. He opened it, then reached in to grab one of the many dresses that hung there at random. "Oh, not that one," Louise said. "The one next to it. That pink-and-white one, yes."

After taking the dress off its hanger, Saito went and laid it down on the bed. Then he turned and went to crouch down by the wall, pressing his forehead against it, as he groaned. Meanwhile, Louise began to change.

"I have to say," she said over the soft sound of rustling silks. "It's quite unusual to have a familiar that's able to speak the human language. Though if you're able to take a human form, I suppose it's not terribly surprising."

It took a few seconds for Saito to comprehend the strangeness of what Louise had said. Then he glanced back over his shoulder with a perplexed expression. But before he could say a word, Louise continued speaking.

"Still, I suppose in this case it's quite convenient," Louise hummed. "I do not know what you are, so I will have to have you tell me. There will be many who will be just as curious as I am to know about you, and as your master I will need to be able to answer them."

"What are you talking about?" Saito said.

"Is it not already obvious?" Louise replied. "Summoning a familiar is an important coming-of-age ritual for young nobles, like me. Therefore, it is also important that we celebrate our successful passage into adulthood. Today is our chance to meet with many of the most important nobles in the country, and to show them our worth."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Saito said. "I mean, what the heck do you think I am?"

"Are you not like the princess's familiar?"

"You mean that thing that one girl in the white dress summoned?"

"She's not 'that one girl,'" Louise scowled. "She is the princess of Tristain and you _will_ show her proper respect, otherwise I will have to discipline you. And yes. You are like her familiar, are you not?"

"Hell no!" Saito scoffed. "I'm not like that monster."

Louise frowned and tilted her head. "Then what are you?"

* * *

Waking up was the last thing that Alex Mercer had expected to do, not because he physically did not require sleep, but because he should have been dead by now. More than that, he should have been incinerated down to the very last cell. That it was otherwise was a miracle, and a most pleasant surprise besides.

Another surprise, less pleasant than the first, was the realization that he was not alone in the room he had woken up in. As his eyes opened and his gaze moved from the canopy of a four-poster bed to his side, there in the room with him, he saw a young woman and an elderly man.

The girl sat on a chair at his bedside, reading an unfurled scroll. She had shoulder-length, light-brown hair, light blue eyes, and flawless fair skin. She wore a tiara wrought in gold and silver and bedecked with sapphires and other fine jewels on the crown of her head, and a regal silk white dress over her body. The old man sat further away, at a table at the center of the room. He was dressed far more modestly: simple dark robes made of fine cloth, whose only decoration was a gold trim, and a brimless cap to cover his thin grey hair. He was reading as well, though his choice of reading material was a ponderous leather tome.

When they heard Alex stir, the both of them looked up from their reading. The girl smiled at him, but the old man pursed his lips and studied him carefully.

"You're finally awake." The girl sighed with relief. "Thank Brimir, I was beginning to fear that you wouldn't."

"Where am I?" Alex murmured as he looked around the room groggily.

"You're in my room, in the Academy of Tristain," the girl answered. "How are you feeling?"

 _Like shit,_ is what Alex wanted to say as he tried to sit up, but failed and collapsed back into his pillows with a soft _oomph._ He moaned from the strain of the effort. He hadn't felt this bad since the day when he had first woken up in that morgue in what felt like a lifetime ago.

"Easy," the girl said, alarmed, as she rose halfway out of her seat to reach out to him, as though to press him back down, but then stopped midway through. She hesitated, then pulled her hand back and sat back down. "I healed you the best I could, but you are still very weak right now. You need to rest."

Alex could only agree with that. With a bit of time, he would be able to repair the worst of the damage done to his body. He likely wouldn't be able to make a full recovery without consuming some fresh biomass, the wounds he had suffered being too severe for that, but soon he would once again be able to walk and run and jump... and fight, if necessary.

He settled back down, making himself more comfortable on the bed as he tried to clear the fog out of his mind. He couldn't seem to remember much of what had happened to him after he had taken the bomb out to sea. How had he gone from the coast of Manhattan to... well, wherever this place was? _The Academy of Tristain,_ she had said, yet that name meant nothing to Alex. The only thing he could recall was some kind of light, not from the blaze of nuclear fire, and then the sensation that he was falling into a never-ending pit.

Alex sighed and rubbed his temple with a thumb. _Fuck, even thinking is exhausting._

"Are you all right?" the girl asked.

"I'm fine," Alex grunted, his voice uncharacteristically soft, weak. "Just... tired." He glanced at the girl again. "Who are you?"

"My name is Henrietta de Tristain," the girl replied. She gestured behind her at the old man. "This is my adviser, Cardinal Mazarin. And you? Do you have a name?"

"My name is Alex Mercer," he answered without thinking, and almost immediately he regretted it. _That was stupid._ Tired as he was, it was still no excuse to have been so careless. He was an internationally wanted terrorist. Should either of these two recognize his name, there would be trouble.

"Alex." Henrietta nodded and smiled blithely at him. Behind her, there was no change in the old man's expression. Seeing this, Alex relaxed. He had gotten lucky, it seemed. They did not know who he was. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Alex nodded in reply, and then an awkward silence passed over them as Henrietta looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. When it became clear that he had nothing to say, she continued.

"In any case," she said, her smile faltering a little, "I would ask you a few questions."

"I got some questions too," Alex replied.

"Then we can take turns," she declared. "If I might go first?" She leaned in towards him with an intensely curious look on her face, as she rested her chin on a steeple made of her fingers. "Alex, I must know: what are you?"

Alex tensed again immediately. His jaw tightened and his fingers twitched and curled into a fist. Had he had any strength left in his body, he would have bolted upward on instinct, so surprising the question, and so bluntly asked.

"You know I'm not human?" Alex said warily. He had never made an effort to conceal what he was from others, except for when he needed to disguise himself as someone else, but the fact that this girl already knew what he was, or perhaps, more accurately, what he was _not,_ surprised him. As far as he knew, he had not done anything that could have given himself away yet. "How?"

"When I summoned you, you were nothing more than a piece of slime," Henrietta explained. "But then you devoured a bird, and you took the form of a man. This tells me that you have the ability to shapeshift. Yet, of all the shapeshifting creatures I know of, none possess as powerful a regenerative capability as you – not spriggans nor lycans nor anything else. I know that you are not human, Alex, but that is the extent of it. Simply put, I haven't the foggiest idea exactly _what_ you are. Hm? Is something wrong?"

Something was very, _very_ wrong.

"Spriggans? Lycans?" Alex said incredulously. "You _summoned_ me? What the fuck are you talking about? _Where the hell am I?"_

"What do you mean?" Henrietta said, startled by Alex's sudden outburst. "As I said before, you are in the Academy of Tristain, one of the foremost schools of magic in the world."

* * *

Alex's mind was in utter chaos. Innumerable thoughts were running rampant through his head, so many different voices screaming at each other to the point that he was starting to feel physically nauseous, though he knew that was just his weakness complaining.

What Henrietta had told him was a fantastic tale that he almost dared not to believe, _could_ not believe, for it was a tale of magic and kingdoms – a story better suited for the realm of fiction.

According to her, he was currently in a small country called Tristain, of which she was the princess and the heir apparent to the throne, which itself was located on the continent of Halkeginia. Neither names were ones Alex was familiar with, as neither the country nor the continent existed anywhere on Earth.

In other words, he was in another world.

When that thought first occurred to him, he did not believe it. He did not believe when Henrietta told him she was a mage, and he did not believe that he was here because of her. She had "summoned" him through a spell, she said. Ridiculous, he had replied. This was a set up.

When he expressed these doubts, Henrietta merely nodded, picked up her crystal scepter from where it laid on the nightstand, and conjured a sphere of water and sent it flying around the room in whimsical patterns before making it disappear, with hardly a drop of liquid left behind. After that, he had no choice _but_ to believe, no matter how unbelievable all this may seem to him.

"Alex," Henrietta said worriedly. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Yes," he replied curtly. He was not looking at her anymore. He had one hand over his face, turning his eyes to darkness so that he could try to concentrate. "I'm just... thinking."

"I understand," Henrietta said congenially. "This must be a lot to take in."

Alex nodded, finally removed his hand, and once more made the struggle to rise. Having rested for some time now, he was already feeling much stronger. While it was still difficult for him to move, he could at least manage to sit up without falling back down. Henrietta looked concerned, but did not protest when she saw that he was able to prop himself up against the bed's headboard.

He glanced at her again, and suddenly he felt a wild urge to consume both her and the old man behind her. More than the fact that he needed to restore himself back to physical health, he needed to know more about this new world that he found himself in.

At one point in time, in the early days after he had woken up in that Gentek morgue, he might have followed through on that visceral pang of hunger. But that was then when he had been a much simpler beast, driven only by a desire to know who had infected him and to punish them for it. To that end, he had consumed many people and stole many memories. In the process, he had learned. Through their lives, he had grown. He came to know what it meant to be good and evil, able to discern right from wrong, like having eaten some kind of sick fruit from a fucked up Tree of Knowledge, over and over and over again.

Now that instinct passed almost as quickly as it had come, and would have been easily repressed if it had not. He had no desire to hurt this girl. She had done him no wrong. Quite the opposite, in fact. If she spoke the truth, then by summoning him when she did she may very well have saved his life. But there in lied the most important question, the one thing Alex needed to know before anything else.

"Why did you summon me?" he said, his voice not without a hint of suspicion.

"I did not choose to summon you," Henrietta answered. "I was summoning a familiar, and that you appeared before me is simply how it happened."

"So you're saying that I just got lucky?"

"I would not say it is due to luck," Henrietta replied. "No mage has control over what comes through the summoning gate, certainly, but the spell itself chooses the most appropriate familiar for the mage."

"And the spell chose me to be your familiar," Alex stated, to which Henrietta affirmed with a nod.

Yes, he could see why the spell would bring him to the princess. He could imagine the many different ways the future ruler of a country would want to use him against her enemies, if she learned what he could do. Infiltration. Assassination. Sabotage. _War._

All these things, he could do for her... if he was so inclined, and of that he was not. He had just gotten out of one hell of a war. He had no interest in jumping into another one as the personal weapon of a little girl.

It seemed to him that this spell was a dangerous one. Henrietta had gotten lucky that he was actually grateful to be summoned. But somehow he doubted that others in his position would feel the same, unless the spell happened to rescue each and every one of them from some unwanted fate. What happened when a mage summoned a familiar that was both stronger than them and hostile to them? Was that risk and any losses that came from it something that was simply accepted by the mage population as a whole? If so, what were familiars that they would be so valuable to them as to warrant such losses?

Or perhaps the spell only ever summoned a familiar that was weaker than the summoner. Looking at Henrietta, though, Alex found that hard to believe. Even now, weakened as he was, he could not see how he would lose to her in a fight. Then again, he was judging her based on her physique, while she was a mage. Who knew what the extent of her power was?

But even if that was true, it wasn't as if the familiar needed to be stronger than their summoner to kill them. Even if these people were sorcerers, they were still humans, surely. They must have the same basic needs of food, water, and sleep, and so there existed many opportunities for a vengeful familiar to kill their summoner and escape.

Perhaps he was looking at this the wrong way. Henrietta said that the spell summoned "the most appropriate familiar." Did the word "appropriate" here mean a familiar whose temperament and personality meshed well with the summoner's? But it wasn't as though one's disposition or opinion of someone else couldn't change.

Alex sighed and shook his head. His entire situation was so bewildering that he was inadvertently trying too hard to make sense of it all. He was making too many suppositions without enough information to back them, and that only resulted in confusing him even more. He needed to take a step back and start from the beginning.

"You say that I'm your familiar," Alex said finally, "but what does that mean?"

"It means that you would be my lifelong companion," Henrietta replied, smiling gently at him. "Look under your shirt. Do you see those runes on your arm there, just beneath your shoulder?" Alex glanced down at his body and saw that he was wearing clothes not formed of his own biomass. Henrietta must have had him dressed in it while he was unconscious. He rolled up the sleeve of his right arm until it was bunched up around his shoulder and saw a series of strange characters tattooed around his upper arm. "That is the sacred proof of our bond."

"Are you saying that you summoned me... to be your _friend?_ " Alex gave her an incredulous look as he rolled down his sleeve. That was not an answer he was expecting, nor one that he could readily accept. It was just too absurd.

Then again, everything thus far had been one absurdity after another. What was this compared to what had come before? To the fact that he was _in another world?_

This last point, Alex felt, could not be stressed enough.

"Does that truly seem so strange to you?" Henrietta couldn't help but to look wryly at him now. She shook her head. "Yes, I suppose it must. You could not have known, but being a princess can be a terribly lonely thing. Friends whom I can trust are a rare and valuable breed, yet my enemies are many and critics more numerous still. Truth be told, I would have been happy with any familiar that could have given me some company whilst I exist in that gilded birdcage they call a palace. But instead of giving me some base animal or unthinking beast, the summoning spell gave me you, someone with truly human intelligence, instead. This is almost unheard of, but this too I believe is a blessing from Brimir. You are someone I can converse with instead of merely talk to, and all the better for it."

"I see." Alex paused for a moment to absorb her words. "So this summoning spell usually only summons non-sapient animals?" That would answer a lot of his earlier questions.

"Yes," Henrietta said. "In fact, until today, I have never heard of a familiar so human in quality being summoned. Now there are two."

"Two?" Alex frowned. "Who's the other?"

"He is the familiar of my good friend, Louise Valliere," Henrietta said. "He is much like you, I think."

"I doubt that," Alex said. "If he looks human, then it's probably because he is a human."

"That cannot be," Henrietta shook her head. "The spell has never summoned a human before. It is not possible."

"Yeah?" Alex shrugged. "Either way, he's not like me. There aren't any others like me." He had made sure of it on the USS _Reagan._

"Is that so?" Henrietta said, not really understanding but nodding anyway. "Then, now that we've answered some of your questions, I hope we might return to mine. You have yet to tell me: what are you?"

Alex shook his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"You need not hide anything from me, just as I plan not to hide anything from you," Henrietta said gently. "We are mage and familiar now. I want us to be able to trust each other."

"It's hard to trust someone I just met," Alex said, and instantly knew that he had made a mistake when he saw the hurt expression on Henrietta's face. "Sorry. Didn't mean it like that."

"No, it's fine," Henrietta said stiffly. "I should apologize as well. There is much that I have presumed upon, and I forgot that you must still be confused by your presence here." She stood up and grabbed her scepter. "It is almost time for the party now, so I must be leaving. I'll have a servant bring you some food and water shortly. Come, Cardinal, let us leave."

"Yes, Your Highness," the old man said as he stood up and followed after Henrietta. But when she got to the door, she suddenly stopped, one hand on the knob, and hesitated. She motioned for the old man to go out first. When he was gone, she glanced back over her shoulder and said softly:

"... but perhaps we can speak more at length later and get to know each other better then?"

"Yeah, sure," Alex said, and then after his own moment of hesitation, tentatively added, "I'd like that."

Henrietta smiled at him again, and she closed the door behind her.


	3. Rituals: Part 3

**Chapter 3**

After Henrietta closed the door to her room, she turned and saw Cardinal Mazarin standing there waiting for her. His lips were pursed tightly together, which she knew from experience meant that he had something to say, but would not without being commanded to out of respect for her rank.

"You seem bothered by something," Henrietta said. "What is it?"

"It is not my place to say, Your Highness," Mazarin replied stiffly.

"Yes, but you will anyway," she said primly, "or else you shall have to explain to the nobles why you look like you are so constipated when we get to the party."

Cardinal Mazarin sighed. "Your Highness, we've discussed before about minding your tongue."

"In _public,_ " Henrietta corrected him, smiling mischievously. "But as far as I can tell, it is only the two of us here in the hallway at present."

"It still makes for a bad habit."

"As does saying that you should not say something when you clearly want to say it anyway. It's really quite annoying, actually." Henrietta rolled her eyes. "Go on, Cardinal. Speak your mind."

"Yes, Your Highness," Mazarin said as they began to walk down the halls. "Then, if I may be so bold, I must say that I do not approve of how you behaved by your familiar. You are his master now, in truth, and it is vital that you establish a clear hierarchy between the two of you, lest he grow to become unruly and difficult to control."

"Are we speaking of Alex or my new pet dog?" Henrietta said sarcastically, looking around in mock wonder. "I do not want another servant. I have hundreds of those already. I want a friend, for in this world I have only one, and these days it is rare that I see her, let alone speak with her."

"You wish for a friend, I understand," Mazarin said. "But would you allow a friend to speak to you so insolently?"

"Why, yes, I would," Henrietta tittered. "It would be quite refreshing to have someone speak to me with such unabashed audacity."

"A poor choice of words on my part, it would seem," Mazarin bemoaned. "Then allow me to reiterate: you _cannot_ allow him to speak to you in such a way again. It will cause nobles and commoners alike to question your dignity as princess of Tristain."

"Perhaps you should wear the crown," Henrietta said. "Clearly, you are better suited to rule than I."

"Such jests do not suit you, Your Highness."

Henrietta gave Mazarin a sidelong glance. "I wasn't entirely joking."

"Your Highness..." Mazarin sighed wearily. "Regardless of how you feel, I implore you to at the very least be wary around your familiar. We still do not know what he is, and the fact that he hides it from us leads me to believe that he may be dangerous."

"Chances are very good that he is," Henrietta agreed, thinking back to how Alex had devoured that bird when he was a small piece of slime and wondering how much more he could do now that he was human-sized. It honestly sent a shiver down her spine thinking about it. "But I do not believe he will harm me."

"Why is that, Your Highness?"

"When I spoke with him, I did not get the impression that he was altogether angry about having been summoned here," Henrietta said. "Bewildered, perhaps, but not angry. He will not harm me because he has no reason to."

"A reason!" Mazarin scoffed. "A serpent taken in from the cold and nursed to health at the bosom will bite you regardless. It is in its nature."

"Cardinal, forgive me for what I am about to say, but you are old and set in your ways," Henrietta said. "Alex is not like other familiars. He is as capable of thought as you or me or any other human being. If nothing else but for this, we must treat with him differently than we might other familiars."

"Yes, he is not like other familiars." Mazarin turned his head to look at her evenly. "So why do you assume to know him so well already?"

Henrietta pursed her lips and glowered at Mazarin. "Enough," she said harshly. "I'll hear no more about this."

"As you say, Your Highness."

Before they left the Academy's dormitories, they found a servant and had her send for food and water back to Henrietta's room. Then they headed for the courtyard, where all the nobles and their new familiars were already gathered. They were the last to arrive, purposefully so, because she was royalty, so _of course_ she had to come last. Henrietta thought it was a ridiculous custom, but since it was expected of her there was nothing she could do about it.

 _Perhaps one day I should show up before anyone else, just to see what happens,_ Henrietta mused only half-seriously to herself.

The herald waiting by the Academy's main entrance made to announce them. The large double doors opened and closed behind him. If she strained her ears, Henrietta thought she might be able to pick out his words from the other side of the door, but before she could try Mazarin had already bent her ear towards him.

"Do not forget, Your Highness," Mazarin said. "This is a good chance for you to meet with the current heads and future scions of many different noble families. I urge you to stay on your best behavior."

"Yes, yes, I know," Henrietta sighed. "Do not worry. I shall play the part of the perfect little princess."

Then the doors opened, and Henrietta squinted slightly as the bright sun shone down on her. She took five steps forward and three steps down as a round of applause rose up before her. She smiled at them, then raised one hand for silence.

"My lords and ladies," Henrietta began. "Thousands of years ago, when the Founder Brimir still walked the earth, the world was a much harsher, more primitive place. Man warred against man with spears and stones; dangerous beasts prowled the earth, hunting man as prey; the very land itself was violent towards us. Life was short and brutal then, for even Founder Brimir was still yet only human then. Those that he could save were limited by how far he could reach out with his hands.

"But the gods were good and they did not forsake mankind. They gave Brimir the power of the Void, and he in turn blessed us, his most loyal followers, with the gift of magic, and he created for us the very first spell: the summoning spell. Thus, we were given the means to tame the wild beasts; to traverse over land and sea and air; to _rule_ the land that once sought ruin us; and, in time, to create the kingdoms that stand proudly today.

"We have gathered here today to bear witness to the fine youths of the next generation take that same first step that Brimir and his followers took so many centuries ago. You have each, one and all, summoned fine familiars. Be proud, young mages. Stand tall. You have your familiars now. Soon, the crown and the nation will turn their eyes upon you to lead our country into the future."

A second round of applause came up from the crowd. Henrietta effected another smile and waved at them, and soon the nobles were mingling among each other in small clumps as they talked and laughed and spoke to each other of theirs or their children's newly summoned familiars.

Mazarin approached Henrietta.

"You did well, Your Highness," he said. "It was a fine speech."

"It should be. You wrote it." Henrietta waved over one of the servants holding a tray of glass wine cups and took one. She took a sip to wet her tongue, then set it back down. "Now then, let us go about and make the appropriate niceties. I trust once we are finished, you won't begrudge me the chance to speak with Louise?"

Mazarin dipped his head. "I wouldn't dream of it, Your Highness."

"Good." Henrietta looked around to see which nobleman or woman she should go speak with first. There were so many to choose from that she wasn't quite sure where to begin. Perhaps fortunately, then, she did not need to make that choice – someone else made it for her: a blond boy, with wavy hair, a rose in his breast-pocket, and a giant mole shuffling along by his feet. It was a rare move for a noble to approach her first in such a setting, and rarer still for one so young. Either he was uncharacteristically bold for one of his age or simply wasn't self-aware enough to realize how all eyes were on them now. "Who is that one, Cardinal?"

"He is Guiche de Gramont," Mazarin answered. "Third son of the Gramont family. He is said to be quite brash, which evidently is true, and a womanizer beside, but those are his only noteworthy traits. He is neither a particularly skilled mage nor will he be inheriting the Gramont properties in the future. He is of no importance."

"That is quite the harsh thing to say," Henrietta whispered.

"The truth often is," Mazarin shrugged. "Still, I suppose if nothing else you can use him to get into the good graces of his father. Merely smile at him, allow him to kiss your hand, and he will sing your praises forever."

"Or at least until I become old and wrinkly," Henrietta quipped.

"That is far into the future, and by then I mean to ensure that you have established your own power base," Mazarin said. "Whether he continues to follow you or not will not matter then. Quiet now, Your Highness. Here he comes."

"Your Highness." Guiche bowed low before her. "If I may say, that was a most marvelous speech that you gave. Truly, you have a way with words that would put even the greatest poets to shame."

"Thank you for your kind words," Henrietta smiled, "though I fear you overrate my humble abilities."

"No, no," Guiche insisted. "If I may confess, your words nearly moved me to tears, so powerful that they were. Truly, the gods may have given the Founder his Void, but they gave you an artist's soul."

Henrietta did not feel like standing there being praised to the stars, so, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she decided to change topics. "You are Guiche de Gramont, are you not?"

Guiche's eyes widened. "You... know who I am?"

"Of course," Henrietta smiled sweetly at him. "Your father fought bravely in the last war. Is he here today? I wish to meet him."

"Y-your Highness," Guiche stammered. "You honor my family greatly. Unfortunately, my father could not come today due to an urgent business, but my eldest brother has come in his stead." He pointed over at a man in his mid- to late-twenties, who very much looked like Guiche, except more strongly built, with a trimmed beard that gave him a rugged impression, and was altogether more pleasing to the eye.

"I see," Henrietta said. "Well, you will give your father my regards, I trust?"

"Yes, of course, Your Highness."

"Good." Henrietta held out one white gloved hand for him, and now Guiche's eyes were growing misty. Henrietta wondered if perhaps she had gone too far. She prayed that he was not about to cry or fall on his knees before her. She definitely did not want the kind of attention that would bring. Thankfully, he instead took her hand with his own trembling one and lightly laid a kiss over her fingers.

"That's one," Henrietta sighed as Guiche left them. "Now for a hundred more to go."

"You exaggerate, Your Highness," Mazarin said. "You only need to meet with fifty or so. May I suggest that man over there next? He is the current head of the Grandpre family. That is his son there next to him, Malicorne."

"My, they're rather... large."

"A testament to the wealth of their lands," Mazarin said. "They hold one of the fiefs by Gallia, and they've grown rich and strong off the trade that passes through their territory. That said, they are not known to be particularly wise with their wealth, and they have racked up quite the tremendous debt to other families, in particular to the Guldenhorfs."

"How do you think I should approach them?"

"Like all nobles, they have a certain vanity to them," Mazarin said. "Absolutely do not mention their size. It will offend them irreparably. Suggest the possibility of a new trade pact with Gallia once you take the throne, and they will be greatly pleased."

Henrietta nodded, and they went over to greet the head and the scion of the Grandpre family.

"Your Highness," the two of them said, bowing as low as their bellies allowed.

"My lord," Henrietta dipped her head slightly in response. The elder Grandpre reminded her of a large snowman she and Louise had once built back in their childhood. He was wide all throughout, but especially around the waist, making his head seem unnaturally small in comparison. His extra chins trembled whenever he spoke, and he had breasts larger than Henrietta's own. His son wasn't quite as bad, but he too had a wide waist and puffy cheeks that pushed up at his already squinty eyes. An owl rested on his shoulder, hooting in protest when its master bowed, flapping its wings irritably to keep balance. "You have summoned a fine familiar. You are of the wind element, then?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Malicorne said bashfully. "Though I'm only a dot mage."

"There is no shame in that," Henrietta said. "Even the renowned Karin the Heavy Wind started as a dot-class mage."

"Yes, thank you for your kind words, Your Highness," Malicorne said shyly, but looking pleased.

"And I thank you as well, Your Highness," the elder Grandpre said. "Oft times I tell my son that he must be more confident in himself – _confident! –_ for he is the proud heir of the Grandpre family. Alas, he still suffers from the fright of people, and women especially. Why, I thought he might never have taken the stage when it was his turn to summon a familiar before his peers."

"Father, not in front of Her Highness, please?" Malicorne complained.

Henrietta smiled. "I'm sure he will grow up to be every bit as brave and as confident as you, my lord."

"Thank you, Your Highness," the elder Grandpre said. "By the by, speaking of familiars, you have, if I may say, summoned a most... ahhh... _unusual_ one."

"He certainly is quite different," Henrietta agreed. "His name is Alex Mercer."

"Mercer?" The elder Grandpre looked confused. "You would give a mere familiar a surname?"

"I did not give him his name," Henrietta explained. "It is the name he gave me."

"It... speaks?" The elder Grandpre scratched his triple chin. "I see. Most unusual, indeed. Are you quite sure it is safe to be around it?"

"Quite sure," Henrietta said curtly. "On another matter, I wish to speak to you of the conditions of your lands."

"We've ruled our land as fair and just as all my predecessors have, since the earliest days in Tristain's history," the elder Grandpre bristled.

"I've no doubt about that," Henrietta said, smiling again now. "I am not questioning your administration. But you see, once I rise to the throne, I plan on negotiating a new trade pact with Gallia. If all goes well, we will be seeing a new influx of merchants yearly, many of whom will by necessity have to pass through your lands on their way to the capital. I am merely concerned that having so many people coming in and out of the country will rapidly deteriorate the conditions of the roads and security of your fief."

The elder Grandpre blinked his beady eyes in surprise. "Your Highness, forgive me for my rudeness. The conditions of my roads are good. I have several unlanded earth mages in my employ who are responsible for its upkeep. As for security, I can hire as many extra mercenaries as necessary to maintain order."

"I am pleased to hear it," Henrietta said, and prepared to end the conversation there. However...

"But if I may, Your Highness," the elder Grandpre frowned, "will this pact truly go through?"

"What do you mean by that, my lord?" Henrietta said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I've heard some... troubling rumors," he said hesitantly. "You are to be wed to Emperor Albrecht of Germania, yes?"

"I am," Henrietta said. "I would have thought that this would be a well known fact by now. The engagement was officially announced last month, after all."

"Yes, well, they say that once you are married, it is the Emperor that will rule Tristain," the elder Grandpre said. "If so, will he allow such a trade pact to pass? Is it not more likely that he will seek to restrict our independence?"

"You are truly a most loyal countryman, my lord," Henrietta smiled. "Fear not. While we are to be wed and our countries allied, Emperor Albrecht shall not interfere with our country's rule. Such is the terms of our agreement. Tristain will remain its own sovereign country." _Though as to the future, once I have borne him our heirs, who can say?_

"I see!" the elder Grandpre clapped his hands together. "In that case, we shall look forward to the future, Your Highness. May you always be so fair and wise."

"And you, my lord," Henrietta said, smiling at them one last time before leaving. She gave Mazarin a sidelong glance and spoke quietly, "So, who's next?"

"I would recommend meeting the Montmorency family."

"They are that famous family of alchemists, are they not?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Mazarin said. "It is good that you remember them."

"They are the keepers of Ragdorian Lake," Henrietta said. "I had a very good time there once, several years ago."

"I see," Mazarin said. "In any case, their influence has been waning as of late due to some ongoing issues with the Spirit of the Lake and a recent split between them and the Alchemists' Guild over some difference in opinions with their leaders, but you would do well to meet with them anyway. Now, you must keep in mind that the Montmorency family are a particularly prideful lot, and not without cause. You would do well to praise their skill in alchemy, perhaps by saying something along the lines of how once when you were dreadfully ill in your youth you used one of their potions and was fully cured that very week."

"Have I truly been that ill before? I can't seem to recall."

"Not as far as I'm aware of, but it is a fiction that suits our purposes."

"Of course it is," Henrietta sighed. "The language of politics is deceit, was it?"

"Indeed," Mazarin said. "Now, after you've met with the Montmorency family, you'll next want to speak with..."

* * *

Once Alex was alone in the room, and silence pervaded the place, he found himself lost in thought once more.

 _So,_ he thought as he sat there, still leaning against the bed's headboard, _magic is real._

He was not surprised he was having a difficult time accepting this fact, even after he had seen the proof with his own eyes. Although he had seen his own fair share of the truly horrific and bizarre, the idea that magic was real was a concept so far removed from his common sense that, more than disbelieving it, he wanted to actively reject the idea. Even now, just repeating that sentence in his head was hard for him to do.

This was not to say that he didn't believe that magic was real now. Rather, he couldn't believe that he _believed._

At least with the Blacklight and Redlight viruses, they operated in a way that he could understand through established science, even if they did stretch and twist the boundaries of what was considered possible. But magic?

Alex closed his eyes and shook his head.

He could feel his body getting stronger by the minute now. His damaged tissues were regenerating, his weakened bones reinforcing themselves, and healthy cells were replacing the dead ones. Reflexively, he began to curl and uncurl his hands into fists, clenching harder and harder every time. Soon, he found himself well enough that he could pull the blanket off of him and climb out of bed with smooth, easy motions. As he stood, he rolled his shoulders, lightly working his body and testing just how far he had recovered. His store of biomass was still low, but it would not hinder him too much in a fight. Satisfied by what he found, he took off the clothes Henrietta had him put into and shapeshifted his body out of the nude.

His skin crawled as thousands of little tendrils unraveled, rewove, and changed colors all along his body. Within seconds, he was in his usual attire of a pair of dark blue jeans, a grey hoodie, and a black leather jacket over it with a red design on the back, which pulsated softly with a bioluminescent glow.

By this time, ten minutes had passed since Henrietta had left. The door knocked, and Alex knew it must be the servant Henrietta had said she would send. Without a word, he went over to the door and opened it, startling the girl on the other side.

The servant girl was dressed in a plain black and white dress uniform, and held a tray of food in hand. She had black shoulder-length hair and eyes so darkly brown that they appeared black. When she saw him staring down at her, she quickly averted her gaze, and one foot slid back half a step. It was an unusually frightened reaction, even while considering how he was glaring at her.

Alex realized then that this girl, too, must also know that he was not human. That caused him to scowl. Was there anyone here that didn't already know that now?

Seeing him scowl seemed to frighten the servant girl all the more. "I... I was sent by Her Highness," she said timidly, though it felt like she was actually saying _Please don't eat me!_ "M-may I come in?"

Alex nodded and stepped aside. He saw the girl's throat move as she visibly swallowed a lump in her throat and entered the room. She set the tray down on the table and poured water from a jug into an empty glass cup for him with trembling hands. All throughout, she kept throwing what was meant to be surreptitious glances over in his direction. He noticed them all, but said nothing.

"Will there be anything else you need?" the servant girl said as she straightened her back and faced him.

"No," Alex replied. "Thanks. You can go now."

Breathing a sigh of relief, the servant girl then hastily left the room. Alex went over to the table and sat down.

The meal was a simple yet hearty affair of fluffy, freshly baked bread, hot beef and potato soup, and a side of steamed vegetables. Alex ate it all quickly. Although consuming still living creatures was the fastest and most immediate method of healing himself, he could still digest and extract nutrients from food like ordinary humans. It was a much slower and more inefficient way of recovering his strength, to be sure, but right now anything would help. And until he had a better grasp of his current situation, he thought it would be best not to go around scaring the natives any more than he already had by consuming a person or animal. That would only create more enemies for him.

After he finished eating, Alex decided to leave the room. So far, the only thing he knew about this world was what Henrietta had told him. He wanted to see more of it for himself. Besides, staying cooped up in the room, lost in his own thoughts, was stifling.

Alex wandered around the Academy without any real sense of direction. He could hear, at points, the sound of people outside, and he presumed that was where Henrietta had gone for the party. He did not feel like joining them, however. There were too many people there, too much attention. So instead, he took an opposite path, eventually taking him to the rear exit of the school. Constructed haphazardly against the Academy's castle-like walls outside was what Alex at first assumed to be an old wooden shed, but quickly realized it was actually someone's workshop when he saw the boxes of tools and scrap wood and metal outside.

Curious by how out of place this workshop was compared to the medieval grandeur of the Academy itself, he entered the little hovel, pushing the door open with a rusty creak. The inside of it was cramped with rows upon rows of shelves laden with strange contraptions and doodads. Hidden behind these shelves, close to the rear of the workshop, Alex could hear the sound of someone working with hammer and wrench. He wove his way through the mess and found a balding man in dusty brown robes hunched over a table. He made for a peculiar sight as he labored over some large metal contraption, which was easily as large as the man's torso. The wand that was set beside a greasy rag and the hammer whose noise Alex had heard earlier suggested that this man was a mage like Henrietta, yet he could not have been any more different from her if he tried. He was worrying over some loose gear when Alex made his presence known by clearing his throat.

The balding mage practically jumped in surprise as he whirled about and faced Alex. He blinked owlishly at him from behind a pair of round spectacles. Then his eyes widened in realization.

"Oh," he said, licking his lips. "You're the princess's familiar, are you not? What are you doing here? Are you lost?"

"I'm just looking around," Alex replied. "Didn't know that someone was still in here."

"Just me," the mage nodded. "This is my own personal workshop. Pardon the mess. No one ever comes this way. Oh, but I should introduce myself. I am Jean Colbert, a professor here at the Academy. I teach the course on fire magic for the second and third year students."

"My name is Alex Mercer." Alex pointed at the metal contraption. "What's that you're making?"

"Do you really want to know?" Jean said as he set aside his wrench and began to gesticulate enthusiastically. "This is a device of my own invention – it doesn't quite have a name yet – that will revolutionize the world! The basic principle is that by filling it with oil in this housing chamber here and then igniting it, we create an explosive energy that is captured by this tube over here and funneled over to these pumps here, causing them to move. This in turn causes this wheel that I've attached to the pumps to spin on its own, without the need for a horse or some-such to pull at it." Jean paused suddenly, and he seemed to deflate all of a sudden as the excitement escaped from him. Sighing, he scratched his head, leaving a black oil stain on his scalp. "Well, that's the theory, at least. To be honest, I haven't quite worked out all the kinks from the design yet. But I'm getting close! I can feel it! If I can just get this work before the party, I'll have something I can present to Her Highness. If I can impress upon her the applications of a device like this, I may even be able to obtain a royal grant to fund my research."

"I see," Alex said. "But the party has already started, you know."

Jean blinked at him. "What? That can't be. It can't have been even an hour since the summoning."

"Don't know about that," Alex shrugged, "but the princess left for the party about thirty minutes ago."

"What!?" Jean exclaimed. "Oh... oh dear. I'm late. Excuse me, but I must be leaving. I'll need to wash up and get dressed. Oh, dear. I hope I'm not too late." He grabbed his wand and quickly headed for the door, pausing only just long enough to call back to Alex: "You may stay, if you wish, but please do not touch anything. They're all rather delicate."

After Alex promised that he wouldn't touch anything in the workshop, Jean Colbert left. Once he was gone, Alex glanced back at the table. In many ways, their conversation had proved to be most enlightening, and he was glad that he had come here. He felt that he knew much more about this world now. Still, he couldn't help but find it strangely amusing that in this world it would be a mage who had apparently created its first ever engine.

* * *

Every minute felt like an hour for Henrietta, and every conversation felt like a repeat of the one before. They would make niceties, she would stroke their ego one way or another, and they would do the same. Then they would ask her about her familiar before she found a way to end the conversation. By the time Mazarin allowed her to take a small break from meeting with the nobles, her mouth was a desert from having had to talk so much. She gratefully quenched her thirst with more wine, delighting in its cool fruity taste, as Mazarin continued to instruct her on who next she should meet with, that monster.

"Cardinal," Henrietta interrupted him before he could hit his stride. "You promised I would be given time to speak with Louise, but at this rate the party will be over before I get the chance."

"These will be the last, I swear," Mazarin replied. "There are two young ladies who I'd like you to meet. They are foreigners, so I do not yet know how useful they will be to you in the future, but one in particular you ought to meet today."

"Very well," Henrietta said. "Who are these two ladies you speak of?"

"Tabitha of Gallia," Mazarin said. "And Kirche von Zerbst of Germania."

"I've heard of the Zerbst family," Henrietta said. "They're well known for the rivalry with the Valliere."

"Indeed," Mazarin said. "They are also among the most prominent noble families in Germania, and powerful enough that even the emperor must tread carefully around them."

"Not unlike the Valliere," Henrietta mused. "What advice have you for when I treat with her?"

"None, I'm afraid," Mazarin admitted. "If what I've heard of the Lady Kirche is true, the two of you could not be more unlike. Even your elements are diametrically opposed; she is of the fire element to your water."

"Then for what purpose would you have me speak with her?"

"To discover who she truly is," Mazarin said. "Is she merely the lascivious yet magically talented foreigner so many of her peers and teachers say that she is? Or is there something more to her? If so, you must find out whether or not it is possible to establish a close personal relationship with her. Having an ally who is well acquainted with Germanian politics will prove useful to you once you are married."

"I see," Henrietta said. "And what of Tabitha? From which family does she hail from?"

"That I do not know," Mazarin admitted.

"You don't know?" Henrietta echoed, shocked. "How can _you_ not know?"

"There is no information on her," Mazarin said reluctantly. "All I could learn was her given name and from which country she hails from, and that she is evidently rather fond of books."

"Then why would you have me meet her?"

"Because she is by far and away the most skilled mage here in the Academy, more so, dare I say, than even many of the teachers here, despite her youth," Mazarin said. "She has summoned a wind dragon for her familiar, which marks her as a triangle-class mage at the very least, and she will undoubtedly become a square-class mage in the near future, if she is not one already."

"How can a mage with so much potential be an unknown?" Henrietta frowned. "Do you think she's a spy?"

"Possibly," Mazarin said. "But if so, she is not a very good one. A proper spy would hide their true strength, and from what I've heard she spends more time reading than anything else. Perhaps she is the product of an illicit love affair. A bastard. Whatever the case, speak with her, Your Highness. Find out what you can. If she is not a spy, it may be possible to recruit her into our own forces by offering her a title and land. She would prove to be a great asset."

"Very well," Henrietta said. "Let's get this over with."

They found Kirche and Tabitha together, sitting on a bench over by the edge of the courtyard. Tabitha wore an unremarkable blue dress, while Kirche wore a sleeveless black one so daring that it set even Henrietta's cheeks aflame. It had a plunging neckline that revealed nearly everything between Kirche's neck and navel, especially the valley between her ample bosom. On the lower half of her dress, a long slit unabashedly revealed her left leg up to her waist, bared save for the pair of black high heel shoes on her feet. She wore a golden ornament shaped into the figure of a serpentine dragon on one of her arms, letting it wind up and around her upper arm until its head rested on her shoulder.

Seeing her made Henrietta acutely aware of her own wear, and she realized how truly Mazarin had spoken. At a glance, they could not possibly be more different. Where Henrietta had smooth white skin, Kirche had a lusty brown one. Where Henrietta had chestnut-colored hair, Kirche's was a vivid, fiery red. Where Henrietta walked with practiced grace, Kirche lounged on the bench with a cat-like ease. Where Henrietta wore a dress that did not reveal even a speck of her skin, Kirche wore the dress of a harridan – and the boys _loved_ her for it. A dozen or so of them were fawning over Kirche, keeping only just enough distance to respect the personal space of Tabitha's dragon, which slept behind the two girls.

Henrietta shook her head. _What is there that I could possibly talk about with this person? Mazarin said that I should see if there's anything more to her, but what more could there be? The girl has already revealed so much._

With the boys' backs turned to Henrietta and Mazarin, it was Kirche who noticed them first. She raised one hand to interrupt the boys and then waved at them, sending them away obediently. Henrietta was impressed by that. She wished that she could do the same thing to the nobles who circled around her like vultures all the time: wave one hand and shoo them away without a word. What a dream.

"Your Highness," Kirche smiled, not even rising to meet her. To her side, Tabitha stood up, bowed, then sat back down, all the while never lifting her eyes from her book. Henrietta could almost feel Mazarin's displeasure at such a brazen act of disrespect radiating from her back. "Please, sit." She sidled closer to Tabitha and patted the newly opened space on the bench with her hand. "It's quite hot today, so it's best to be off your feet."

"I thought Germanians were more accustomed to warmer weather," Henrietta said as she took the offered seat beside Kirche.

"Oh, we are," she laughed. "I was thinking of you, Your Highness. You must be sweltering under all those layers."

"I am used to it," Henrietta said. "I see that you are quite enjoying the breeze."

"Do you like it?" Kirche smirked as she glanced down at her dress. "The boys love it."

"I noticed."

"Many of the older gentlemen as well." Kirche tilted her head back and laughed, a sultry, sensual noise. "They thought no one would notice when they looked my way, but I did. As did their wives. No doubt they are in for an earful when they return home."

Henrietta frowned. "I would hardly think that is something to be so amused over."

"You Tristanians," Kirche shook her head, still smiling. "If you think someone is beautiful, admire them. If your heart is in love, then follow it. That is passion. That is what it means to be alive. What is so wrong with that?"

"Not all of us can afford to be so free," Henrietta said bitterly, and then sucked in her breath as she realized with widened eyes what she had just said. "No, never mind. Please forget I said anything."

Kirche arched an eyebrow as she glanced sideways at the princess, her smile now gone. "I hear we're to be countrymen soon."

"Yes," Henrietta replied warily.

"I am sorry to hear that."

"Are you?"

"I am, truly," Kirche said. "I believe that no one should be forced to marry someone they do not love, yet men of power never seem to agree with me. I left my home because my father thought to marry me off to some old man for their lands and wealth, forgetting that he married my mother for love. But you do not even have that option to flee. I would not wish your fate upon any woman."

"And what fate would that be?"

Kirche paused, and for the first time she seemed to make an effort to consider her words. Slowly, she said, "You will be desired, but not valued. Lusted for, but never loved. And you will share the bed of a man with a dozen women, an object sold for wands and guns for the sake of those whose faces you've never seen. You will not be happy."

"You would speak so ill of your own emperor?" Henrietta said, shocked.

"I would say many things about His Imperial Majesty," Kirche smiled wickedly, "but I fear it would offend your Tristanian sensibilities."

At this, Henrietta couldn't help but laugh too. "You are a bold one, certainly. Were you a Tristanian, it could even be grounds for your arrest."

"Oh? And would you arrest me if I were?"

Henrietta stared at Kirche, and smiled. "No, I do not think I would. As it turns out, I quite enjoy you."

"I aim to please, Your Highness," Kirche gave a mock half-bow. "Though it is usually men who say such things to me."

"Is this a line of conversation that would be appropriate for a princess?" Henrietta asked sarcastically.

"Not in the least," Kirche replied promptly.

"Then I'm afraid I must be leaving now." Henrietta stood up. "Let us talk again another time."

"Yes," Kirche said. But as Henrietta made to leave, the Germanian suddenly reached out and grabbed her by the hand. Henrietta turned and looked at her curiously. "There will come a day when I will return to my homeland to challenge my father's decision to wed me off and come into my inheritance. If, after that day, you should ever need a Germanian to talk to, you will always be welcome in my home."

"I appreciate that," Henrietta said, giving Kirche's hand a gentle squeeze. "Be well, my lady of Zerbst. We shall meet again."

"And you as well, Your Highness." Kirche released Henrietta's hand. "May fortune favor you always."

* * *

"What nerve!" Mazarin fumed as they left the Germanian at the bench. "The things she said... such insolence ought to be punished! It was a mistake, _I_ made a mistake, to have you speak with her. If I had known just how _rude_ she could be, I would never have directed you to her. It was a mistake, a mistake!"

"She seems like an honest person," Henrietta said. "Uncouth, certainly, but she meant no harm."

"Uncouth!" Mazarin scoffed. "Your Highness is far too forgiving. She is a wicked, depraved girl."

"She did make it difficult to stay there," Henrietta allowed. So difficult, in fact, that she had to give up on speaking with Tabitha, lest other nobles start to overhear their conversation and whisper ill things of her. "Regardless, what's done is done, and no harm has come of it. Go enjoy the party, Cardinal. I am going to go see Louise Francoise now."

Mazarin sighed as he bowed. "Yes, Your Highness. Please call for me should anything else arise."

"I will."

Once Mazarin was gone, Henrietta looked around the courtyard, searching for her friend. She found Louise standing off to the side, away from the main crowd of nobles, with her familiar standing beside her.

When he had first been summoned, Henrietta had not paid much attention to the familiar. Her sympathies had been with Louise. But now that she had another look at him, she could see how out of place he was compared to everyone else that was here.

He had the appearance of a young human boy roughly around their own age, but was possessed of foreign features unlike anything Henrietta had seen before. His skin was too pale to be a Germanian, but his coal black hair and narrow black eyes were unusual even in the rest of Halkeginia. Henrietta wondered if he came from Rub'al Khali, the land on the other side of elven territory, far to the south, and the only other place in the world where humans were known to exist. She did not think he did, however. She had seen traveling merchants from Rub'al Khali a few times before, and they looked nothing like him.

His clothes, too, were unlike anything she had ever seen before. His jacket was smooth as silk, almost glassy in texture, yet was obviously made of some other material she did not know of. His trousers were made of a roughspun cloth that had been dyed a deep, dark blue. It was similar to the pants that some commoners might wear, but the quality of its make was obviously too high for that. His shoes were made of soft, thick cloth, and were tied together at the front in big loops with strings.

Henrietta recalled what Alex had said. _If he looks human, then it's probably because he is a human._ She was still certain that he was wrong, but if by some unprecedented chance Louise truly had summoned another human being, then where in the world could one as strange as him come from?

Any further thoughts were cut off then as a group of Louise's fellow students approached her and her familiar. Henrietta kept a safe distance, near the refreshment table, and watched them.

From where she stood, Henrietta couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but their conversation appeared to start civil enough. Their expressions soon changed, however, and Henrietta could see that their conversation had turned sour.

Henrietta felt her temper rise. Once more, those other students were laughing at Louise, mocking her, even as she bit down on her lip with her face bright red, enduring whatever shame they were subjecting her to. She was so brave, so strong. Henrietta envied that.

She had not been able to do anything for Louise during the summoning ritual, but she could do something for her now. It was fortunate that Mazarin was not here to try to stop her with his words of caution. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Henrietta could almost _hear_ her adviser's panicked voice calling out to her, telling her to desist in this course of madness. However, an imaginary Mazarin was so much easier to ignore than the real one. So she pushed the voice aside and kept walking forward, her steps swift with purpose.

"Are you all enjoying the party?" Henrietta said as she approached the group of students from behind with her most beatific smile.

The students turned around. For a brief moment, they still had their stupid, mocking grins plastered on their faces. Henrietta was not one wont to physical violence, but she thought that their faces looked like ones that deserved a strong fist. Then their expressions turned to surprise, then reverence.

"Your Highness," one of the students, a tall boy long, lanky limbs, said as they all bowed. "Pardon us. We did not see you. We are quite enjoying the party, thank you for asking."

"I am pleased to hear it," Henrietta said. "What are your names?"

"I am Olivier Gabriel Victoire de Adrennes," said the tall boy.

"My name is Ada Johanna de Crista," said the girl beside him.

"And I am Adrien Guillaume de Moreau, Your Highness," said the third and last boy. "It is an honor to meet you."

"Yes," Henrietta said. "It is always a pleasure to meet so many promising new students. I hope you'll all pardon me for intruding upon what seemed to be a private conversation."

"Not at all," Olivier said, his lips twitching with barely repressed giggles. "We were just... _mmpf!..._ asking our classmate here about her, ah, familiar."

"Oh? Really? What a coincidence!" Henrietta clapped her hands together. "I was just coming over to talk to my friend Louise about the same thing."

"Your... _friend?_ " Olivier repeated, and all three of their faces suddenly blanched.

"Why, yes," Henrietta smiled sweetly, feeling a sense of gratification from the way they began to squirm. "She was a playmate of mine in our childhood, and I've always thought most fondly of her since then. She hasn't told you about us?"

"Um... no."

"Really." Henrietta effected a great sigh. Then she turned to Louise, who had an uncomfortable look on her face, and reached out and held her hands, giving them a gentle, reaffirming squeeze. "It has been far too long, Louise Francoise. I have sorely missed your company. Come. We simply _must_ catch up with each other." She glanced over at the other three, letting them know she was looking at them, watching them sweat. "I am most keen to hear how you have been, whether you've been... _happy_ or not."

"Yes, Your Highness," Louise mumbled.

"Will the three of you join us?" Henrietta said to the other students. "I think Louise and I would both like it very much if you would."

"N-no, Your Highness," Olivier stammered. "Please forgive us. Our... um... our families are waiting for us."

"A pity," Henrietta sniffed. "Very well. It is not my place to get in the way of a son or daughter's filial duty."

"Yes, thank you." Olivier and the other two hastily bowed and left.

Once the three of them were gone, Henrietta began to giggle. Soon after, Louise joined her, albeit reluctantly.

"Your Highness," Louise said. "I thank you for your help, but you should not waste your effort on one such as I."

" _On one such as I,_ " Henrietta echoed and rolled her eyes. "Come now, Louise. Have the years apart diminished our friendship so dearly? Do not speak to your closest friend so coldly, I beg."

"Your Highness is too kind," Louise said. "But if the other nobles learn that you threatened them for the sake of one such as myself, then I..."

"How was she threatening them?" the familiar boy interrupted. "She didn't say anything that sounded like a threat to me. Besides, even if she did, those guys were a bunch of jerks."

Louise sighed and rubbed her forehead. "It was in between the lines, Saito. The princess was saying that if they continued to harass me, she would punish them for it. And what did I say about speaking out of turn?"

"Yeah, yeah," the boy groused.

" _Ahem."_

"Yes, _mistress._ " Saito rolled his eyes and fell silent.

Henrietta smiled in amusement. "Louise, for your sake, making enemies out of a few minor houses means nothing to me."

"But it would pain _me_ to see you give up even a single gold coin for my sake," Louise insisted. "Please, for the sake of the love I bear you, do not do such a thing again."

Henrietta threw her hands up in the air. "You sound just like Mazarin. Have you spoken with him at all of late?"

"No, Your Highness. I only have your best interests at heart."

"Do not say so," Henrietta said bitterly. "I am so tired of hearing my advisers and courtiers say how they only have my best interests at heart. How could they, when they do not know what weighs upon my heart and soul, nor what lifts me up in my most trying times? If what you say is true, Louise Francoise, if you still have any love for me in your heart, then I ask you to call me as you did in our youth."

"Out here?" Louise looked around worriedly. "It would be inappropriate to address Your Highness with such familiarity."

"We are far enough away that no one will hear, if you speak quietly. Say it, Louise. I urge you to say it."

"... Ann."

An enormous smile painted over Henrietta's lips. It was all she could do from pulling Louise into a great hug. Instead, she said, "Thank you, Louise. You do not know how much it relieves me to hear you say that."

"You're welcome, Ann," Louise said, sounding embarrassed.

"By the by, are your parents here?" Henrietta looked around the yard. "I have not seen them today, and I was hoping to say hello."

A shadow fell over Louise's face. "They were... busy. They could not come today. Eldest sister, as well."

Henrietta's smile slowly turned into a frown. _How foolish I am._ If the Duke and Duchess Valliere were not here, nor their eldest daughter to substitute for them, it was because they had decided not to come. Henrietta berated herself. She had known but forgotten that Louise was enrolled in the Academy against her parents' wishes. They did not believe she could make something of herself as a mage, and, though it burned Henrietta to admit it, they had a point. Years and years of education from the greatest private tutors fortune could buy had done nothing to improve Louise's magical talent. She was still a mage who could only create explosions. She was still, to them, nothing but a zero.

And so, to avoid having the entire family be shamed in public, they did not come. They abandoned Louise to suffer the humiliation alone.

"I see," Henrietta said, smiling weakly at her friend. "I understand. With a fief as large and as prosperous as theirs, it is only to be expected that the Duke and Duchess have very important matters to attend to."

"Yes."

"A shame, though," Henrietta continued hastily when she saw Louise fall further into depression. "I think they would be thrilled to see what you have accomplished. You've summoned a most unique familiar, just like me. It's almost like we're sisters."

"Your Highness... my familiar is not like yours."

"What do you mean?"

"My familiar..." Louise sighed. "My familiar is nothing but a mere commoner."

Henrietta blinked. "You're sure of this?"

"Yes."

"I... see."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Louise said, eyes downcast. "Please forgive my rudeness, but I think I'd like to be alone for the time being."

"I understand," Henrietta said quietly. "Be well, Louise."

"You too, Your Highness," Louise said. Then she bowed and turned to walk away, her familiar following closely at her heels.

Henrietta watched her back as she left, which appeared smaller than usual, and felt sad. Suddenly, a wild, rebellious thought seized her, and it caused words to rise up out of her throat, unbidden. "I'll write you a letter," she blurted out. "Once I have returned from Germania, I'll send you a letter with an invitation to the palace. Please come and see me. Let us talk again then."

Louise turned back around and stared at Henrietta. After a moment, she took in a deep breath and tried to form a smile. "Yes, I'll look forward to it. I'll see you then, Ann."


	4. Rituals: Part 4

**Chapter 4**

They departed from the Academy of Tristain early the next day to much fanfare. The teachers and students of the school were gathered before the gates as they left, cheering and waving as Henrietta's carriage rolled out past the school's walls. At a glance, Alex judged that there was between three to four hundred of them altogether. He watched them from inside the carriage he shared with the princess until they disappeared behind the gates that closed ponderously behind them as they left the Academy's yards.

For a time after that, there was an awkward silence in the air. It was just the two of them in there; Mazarin had been sent away by Henrietta to ride in a separate carriage before they had set out, much to his protest. It was clear to Alex that this had been done to give them some privacy, just as it was clear what she wanted from him: a conversation. Yet, Alex found it difficult to deliver on that promise they had made yesterday.

Alex was not a sociable person. While he was more than capable of holding a conversation when he was acting in the guise of someone he had consumed by using their stolen appearance and memories, when he was himself he was never quite sure what to do or say. Part of this was because he was naturally disinclined towards making small talk, he knew. For him, conversations were made with clearly defined purposes in mind. They were a means to an end. But another part of him wondered if even that was merely the result of how his experiences in Manhattan had shaped him.

Back then, the people he dealt with were most often either enemies or allies, and the way he spoke reflected that fact. Not even Dana, his own sister, was exempt from this. Although he cared for her, almost every conversation he had ever had with her had been made with some definite goal in mind, whether that be discussing how to get to some person of importance, how to stop the virus, or whatever else. On the rare occasions where he had tried to reach out to her as her brother, as a _person,_ the results had been... lackluster. And if he had so much trouble talking with his own _sister,_ then what the hell was he supposed to say to this near total stranger who claimed to want to talk to him for no other purpose than to be his friend?

When he thought about it like that, he found himself floundering, like a man adrift at sea.

Alex wished that Henrietta would say something first, but he knew that wouldn't be fair. It was his fault that their previous conversation had ended on such a sour note, so he needed to be the one to take the first step here. Though there was always the option to just continue this silence all the way to their destination, in the end, he was also curious about this girl before him.

She knew he was not human. She had seen at least a taste of one of the most horrific things he could do to another living creature. Yet, despite that, she did not seem to fear him. Why? Most people when they saw him consume something were terrified. Were her nerves simply made of a stronger stuff? Was she genuine in her professed desire to make friends with him? Alex didn't believe that, he decided. He _couldn't_ believe it. The reality of magic put aside, that was just too absurd.

And yet, somewhere deep inside him, Alex wondered: what if he was wrong?

To his own surprise, he hoped that he was. It was suspicious, certainly, yet also oddly refreshing having someone look at him without an ounce of fear or hatred. Not even Dana had ever looked at him that way. Alex could still remember with terrible, regretful clarity the way she trembled and cringed back from him after he had punched a hole straight through the chest of the Blackwatch soldier attempting to take her away, and again when he revealed what he had become, what he could do, what he was _meant_ to do.

God, he wished he could turn back time. He hated seeing how scared Dana had been because of him, even if she did manage to bring herself to accept him and what he had become by the end.

This was a chance, Alex suddenly realized. If Henrietta truly was being honest with him, then this was an opportunity he had never had before. Here, with her, he would be able see something beyond the death and destruction, the monsters that had ravaged Manhattan. What that "something" was, he didn't know yet. But whether he was right or wrong about her, the only way he would find out is if they started talking.

With that in mind, Alex took a deep breath and decided to just go for it.

"Listen," he said. "About the things I said the other day... I want to explain myself better."

"All right," Henrietta nodded. "What do you want to say?"

"You wanted to know what I am, and I told you that you wouldn't understand," Alex said. "I wasn't trying to insult you or anything when I said that. I meant it literally. If you want to know what I am – what I am _really_ – you're going to need certain knowledge that I don't think actually exists in this world yet." And for that, Alex was grateful. Regardless of what he decided to do from this day forward, he had absolutely no intention of ever telling this girl about the Blacklight virus, a bioweapon designed to destroy life as they knew it. At best, it would only frighten her. At worst, she might even turn against him. No, keeping that part of himself a secret was the right thing to do, and it would be so much easier to do just that when she wouldn't know what he was talking about even if he _did_ tell her.

"This world?" Henrietta frowned.

"Yeah, that's the other thing," Alex said. "See, I'm not from this world. When you summoned me, your magic – _somehow_ – brought me over from my world to here." Alex nearly snorted. _Somehow._ He had a feeling he was going to be using that word a lot in these coming days.

"That... is hard to believe," Henrietta said slowly. "I've never heard of a familiar being summoned from across worlds. Or, indeed, of there being other worlds at all."

"And I've never heard of magic being real until yesterday," Alex retorted. "Doesn't mean it's not."

"It certainly would explain why I've never heard of anyone or anything like you before," Henrietta mused. "And why you were so surprised by my spell yesterday."

Alex disagreed. He thought he had been remarkably well composed considering she had taken a shit on his understanding of physics. But he supposed that was a matter of perspective.

"Magic only exists as fiction or tricks that anyone can do with a bit of practice and preparation in my world."

"Hmm..." Henrietta bit her lip contemplatively. "I wonder if Louise's familiar is also from your world, then. I was thinking that he appeared too foreign to be from any of the known lands of this world. Perhaps you know? His name is Saito. His manner of speech is rather like yours."

"Saito?" Alex frowned. "That sounds like a Japanese name. Won't know for sure without meeting him, but, yeah, he could be."

"You'll get your chance," Henrietta said. "I plan on inviting Louise to visit me at the palace at a later date. For now, please continue what you were saying."

"Right," Alex said. He noticed that a hint of reluctance had wormed its way into his voice. He was having second thoughts. He had already resolved not to tell Henrietta about the Blacklight virus, but then what should he tell her instead? She had shown him remarkable kindness and patience, and he wanted to reciprocate with honesty. But all of a sudden, the notion of telling her anything at all seemed like it was one thing too much, and that filled him with trepidation.

"Alex?" Henrietta frowned when she saw him hesitate. "Is something the matter?"

"No, I'm fine," Alex replied. He made his decision then. Aside from the most essential truths, he would be as honest with her as she wanted him to be. And if even that much of the truth scared her and she was repulsed by him because of it, then so be it. Better that happen now than later, before he got too attached to her, when the consequences would pain him as well. "I'm not human – you know that already. But I wasn't born like you were either. I was _made._ It's... complicated. I guess the simplest way to put it is to say that I'm an artificially created human, even if that isn't entirely correct."

"That's... that's impossible." Henrietta looked disconcerted. "Are the people of your world gods that they can breathe life from nothingness?"

"It wasn't exactly from nothing, and if they were gods, they wouldn't have made me," Alex spat. "I'm a weapon – a _living_ weapon – made by sick men for sick purposes."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean exactly what I said," Alex answered. "I was made to kill my creator's enemies."

"I... see..." And this time, Henrietta truly did understand. Alex could see it in her eyes as they widened: the dawning realization of what he could do, or at least the beginnings of it. Her gaze shifted over to his clothes, then back to his face. "Your body... you can do more than just make clothes for yourself, can't you?"

In response, Alex held up one hand and transformed it into a set of claws – four wicked talons, each over a foot long, made of a steel-like substance and whose bladed edge was sharper than any sword – while his arm warped into a gnarled mess of black muscles and tendons and glowing red veins and vessels to support the weight of the transformation.

Henrietta twitched in a brief moment of surprise, but that quickly passed, and Alex returned his arm to normal.

"Yes," Alex said, causing Henrietta to smile wryly at him, briefly.

"What happened to those people who made you?" she asked him with a somber look on her face.

"Them?" Alex shrugged. "Well, they died."

Henrietta frowned. "Were you the one who killed them?"

"Not all of them," he replied. "If you feel sorry for them, don't. They deserved everything that they got."

That did not look to reassure Henrietta at all. "Did you kill anyone else?"

Alex glanced out the window. "I did."

"How many?"

"I don't know." Alex shifted slightly in his seat. "Hundreds. Thousands. Too many to count."

"Surely they did not _all_ deserve to die."

"No, they didn't," Alex gave a long sigh. "When I first woke up, I didn't have any memories. Didn't even know my own name, not at first. And I had enemies all around me. I did a lot of things to try to figure out who I was and what had happened to me, why _they_ did this to me. And those things that I did... a lot of people died because of it."

"Alex..." Henrietta said slowly. "You know that I am the princess of this country. My duty is to protect the lives of my people."

"I know." Alex crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked back at Henrietta now. "So, what are you going to do?"

"That depends on you," Henrietta said. "Will you give me your word here and now that you won't do anything to harm my people without just cause?"

"I will," Alex said bemusedly.

"Then all is well," Henrietta said satisfactorily.

"Just like that?" Alex furrowed his brows. "That easily?"

"It is not an easy decision at all," Henrietta said. She hesitated. "Alex, this may sound strange, but may I touch you?"

"What?" Alex blinked at her, startled. "Why?"

"There is something I want to check," she said. "Please."

Alex stared at her warily for a moment, before nodding ever so slightly in acquiescence. He watched as Henrietta's hand came up to his face slowly, and he had to keep himself from flinching as he felt the smooth skin of her palm and fingers cup him by the cheek.

"As I thought," she said softly. "Do you remember what I said before, Alex? I want us to be able to trust each other. But for that to happen, one of us must take the first step in putting their trust in the other, I think. And as I was the one who brought you to this world, I will take that first step. I will not lie. The fact that you've killed so many people puts me ill at ease. If Cardinal Mazarin knew of this, he would surely tell me to send you away, or perhaps worse. But I want to believe that you will not harm me or my people. I _know_ you will not."

"How can you know that?" Alex couldn't help but put forward.

Henrietta gave him a small, gentle smile, one filled with warmth and caring. "Because a weapon is something made of steel or powder, and those are cold to the touch. You are warm. I can feel it even now. And so I know: You are not a weapon, Alex. Regardless of what your creators intended you to be, you are not. You are my familiar, and I choose to trust you."

Alex shrugged Henrietta's hand away from him and stared at her with lips tightly pursed together. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? What was he supposed to say now? He wasn't used to such closeness from others, and he found it made him feel altogether uncomfortable. He wasn't sure he liked it either. So he shifted his gaze back out the window and said nothing. And though they fell into another long silence, neither of them made any move to break the quiet for the rest of the ride home.


	5. Rituals: Part 5

**Chapter 5**

It was late in the evening when they arrived at Tristania, the capital of Tristain. The tall white walls that formed the perimeter of the city reflected the dying sunlight, setting it aflame. Outside the walls were vast crop fields that stretched on for many acres all around the city, and even now farmers could be seen hard at work, pouring all of their effort into the scant few hours of daylight that remained.

Henrietta's procession came up along the western road. As they trundled along, the farmers nearest to them quickly set down their tools and dropped to their knees to bow until the princess and her entourage had passed them by. When Alex saw this from inside her carriage, he found that it made him feel uncomfortable, not so much from the sight of them paying deference, but because it was yet another reminder that he was truly in another world. More than that, however, he was just glad that they were finally here. _It's about damn time,_ he thought to himself.

The distance between the Academy and the capital was not an especially long one. At his top speed, it wouldn't even take an hour for Alex to make the trip. But by carriage and horse, it had taken them most of the day.

It had been an enlightening journey. Alex had discovered something about himself that he had not known. As it turned out, he was not fond of sitting around for hours on end without anything to do, and it drove him nearly mad with boredom. It was not something he was used to. Back in Manhattan, Alex had always been on the move. He had always been hunting, always running, always chasing down the next clue that would lead to the answers he sought. Even when he wasn't actively doing anything, it had almost always been for a purpose, like a lion hiding in the bush as it waited for its prey to walk by.

He was beginning to understand why Henrietta was so eager – or perhaps he should say _desperate –_ to make friends with him. This boredom that he felt was surely not even a tenth of the ennui she suffered as princess for all these years. Were he in her place, he would also grasp at anything to break the tedium. He could sympathize with that.

The procession stopped before a set of massive oaken gates bound in dark iron. The soldiers on top of the walls appeared from behind their crenelated parapets and hailed down at them, and the lead guardsman of the procession responded.

"Open the gates!" he shouted. "The princess had returned! Open the gates!"

There was a brief flurry of motion on the ramparts as the guards moved out of sight. A few seconds later, the gates began to groan, creaking inwards as though it were the maw of some terrible beast yawning open. They began moving forward again, passing between two rows of city guards, who, like the farmers before them, bowed as they passed.

Tristania was not a large city by the standards of what Alex was used to. Compared to the towering heights and the sheer breadth of Manhattan, Tristania was a far more grounded sight to behold. There were relatively few buildings here that reached more than two or three stories high. In the outermost districts, nearly all of them were only a single story tall. The exceptions tended to be clustered around the central districts, giving the city the overall impression of a hill, slowly sloping upwards from base to peak.

Judging by this layout, it was obvious to Alex that the closer to the heart of the city they got, the wealthier the people that lived there were. It made sense, then, that at the very heart of the city, the peak of that hill, would be where the wealthiest and most powerful people in Tristania lived.

The royal family.

In other words, Henrietta's family.

A thought suddenly occurred to Alex as he glanced over at Henrietta and frowned. While she had been unusually accepting of him, would her mother and father, the queen and king, be so tolerant? Somehow, he doubted that. His mind was a dark place, and it instantly began to assume the worst.

He knew from talking with Henrietta and from the reactions of those at the Academy (Jean Colbert aside, though he struck Alex as something of an oddity) that, even in this world of magic, he was still sufficiently unique enough in what he could do to be horrifying in what he did. What would Henrietta's parents do when they learned what their daughter had brought home with her? If all they did was try to make him leave, that was fine. But if they tried something more extreme, if they actively made themselves into his enemies... then there would be problems.

A strange, twisted part of himself almost _hoped_ that they tried to kill him, not because he wanted to die, but because having enemies around him was something he was familiar with. And in this world, where his sense of reality had been so sorely abused over just these past two days, he would welcome anything that could help stabilize his sense of normality.

It took only a second for Alex to quickly push that thought out of his mind, however. He recalled how immensely frustrating it had actually been to fight a war by himself. He did not want that again. And wasn't his entire reason for sticking around Henrietta instead of just taking off on his own precisely so that he could see something besides what he had known in Manhattan? It seemed to him that hoping that the rulers of an entire country would make themselves into his enemies was a counterproductive thing to wish for, then.

"Is something wrong?" Henrietta asked. _Damn._ He hadn't meant to stare for as long as he did.

"No." Alex averted his gaze again. "It's nothing."

By the time they arrived at the palace, the sky had begun to take on an amethyst hue, and the stars were beginning to shine. The road that led up to the palace was lined on either side with flowering trees, their petals and leaves rustling softly in the cool breeze and filling the air with a pleasant scent. A white fence demarcated the estate, broken up by three entry points, and between it and the palace's outer walls were well kept grounds. To the sides, where the fence ended, large apartments that resembled small mansions helped to box in the yard.

Past the outer wall was a paved courtyard. Here the _clip-clop_ of the horses' hooves rang loudly in the evening air. One hundred men, each dressed in the same sharp uniform with a blue tabard emblazoned with the sigil of a white flower over an eagle's wing, had lined up on either side of the pathway and saluted them as they passed by pressing peculiar swords over their hearts.

The swords were made of a lustrous metal, but they lacked both an edge and a point. Its "blade" was thin and round, about half an inch wide, and overall closely resembled fencing foils. Alex couldn't see how they could be used as weapons. In which case, were those things supposed to be wands? If so, then it was now clear that some sort of medium was required for the mages to cast their spells, or at least aided them in it. That was useful information.

After they passed through the courtyard and continued past the inner walls, they arrived at the palace proper. The palace was a monument of art and architecture. It was constructed in gleaming white marble, which shined like a jewel even in the dying light. In the interstice between the palace's front steps and the portcullis of the inner gates, two rectangular water pools hemmed in the pathway that connected the gate and the door. White lotuses floated on these waters, and a few dragonflies could still be seen flitting about. Further away, flowerbeds and topiaries helped to add a touch to this vision of paradise.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Henrietta said.

Alex looked at her curiously. "You called it a cage before."

"And it most certainly is," Henrietta agreed. "Yet even a cage can be made beautiful if one gilds it with enough gold."

"Is that so?"

"It is so," Henrietta nodded. "But what of you? What do you think of it?"

Alex shrugged. "It's not bad."

"I'm beginning to realize that you are not one to mince for words," Henrietta smiled wryly at him. "Still, this is the first time I've heard someone say of the Palace of Tristain, which is said to have no equals in all of Halkeginia, to be 'not bad.'"

Alex grunted wordlessly in reply. She was right that he didn't like to waste words, but the truth was that fine art had never been an interest of his. So while he could appreciate the beauty of the palace, he didn't feel anything in particular towards it. And by now his eyes had already left the palace for something more important: there was a group of people waiting for them up ahead.

They were a group of soldiers dressed in the same blue outfit as their peers one gate back, but there was one among them that was dressed differently than the rest. Their leader, Alex supposed. He was a man with a wide-brimmed hat, a dark blue cape trimmed with cloth-of-silver and with the same flower-and-wing sigil of the tabards on its back, and possessed a sharp gaze that seemed to pierce through everything.

Their carriage rolled to a stop in front of these men. Before one of them could even begin to move to open the door, Alex had already opened it instead and hopped out. It felt good to finally be able to stretch his legs after so long.

"Alex," Henrietta said from behind him, still inside the carriage. She looked amused, perhaps for the same reason the others stared suspiciously at him. "Will you lend me your hand?"

Alex hesitated for a moment. Then silently, and with some reluctance, he held out his hand, letting Henrietta take it so that she could climb out of the carriage with grace. Mazarin's carriage parked behind theirs, and he climbed out soon afterwards on his own.

The men all bowed, dropping to one knee before the princess. Henrietta allowed them to rest there for a second before raising her hand and saying, "Please raise your heads, my loyal knights."

The knights stood back up as one. Alex noticed that most of them still had their eyes on him, rather than Henrietta. The one with the cape stepped forward, and Henrietta held out one hand for him as he took it and bowed again, at the waist this time, and kissed the back of it.

"Welcome back, Your Highness," the knight said. "It is good to see you returned to us, safe and sound."

"My thanks for receiving me, Sir Wardes," Henrietta said in perfect response. "You fear too much. It was only a short trip to the Academy."

Alex snorted behind their backs. A "short" trip. Right.

"And who is this stranger that is so privileged as to be able ride with you, Your Highness?" Wardes said, turning cool grey eyes towards him.

"He is my familiar," Henrietta replied. "Allow me to introduce you all to Alex Mercer."

Wardes frowned, while behind him the knights all shared a look.

"He is... a human?"

"No," Henrietta said, looking as though she had been expecting this question. "He is a member of a highly intelligent shapeshifting species that is not native to Halkeginia."

 _That's not a bad cover story,_ Alex thought. He might have to use it for himself sometime, should the need ever arise.

"I see," Wardes said softly. "So the rumors are true."

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," Henrietta said. "What rumors?"

"There has been some talk amongst the nobles of how Your Highness summoned a monster in human form as her familiar." Wardes glanced aside at Alex again, and there was a certain look in his eyes that made Alex decide then that this was not a man he could get along with. "But perhaps this is a topic better suited for a more... _closed_ setting."

"If you have something to say about me," Alex said aggressively, "say it to my face."

Wardes arched an eyebrow at him. "So, you can speak."

" _Obviously._ "

"I've no words I needs share with you, familiar," Wardes turned away from him. "Know your place."

Alex growled and took a step forward. Spying this from the corner of his eye, Wardes's hand went to his sword-wand. But before anything else could happen, Henrietta had taken a step forward, placing herself between the two of them.

"There is, indeed, much to learn about my familiar, Sir Wardes," Henrietta said with a frosty smile. "But while I do not know what kind of rumors are being spread, I think you would do well to be wise than to pay heed to such frivolous gossip."

"Of course, Your Highness," the mage-knight said. "My apologies."

"Your apology is accepted," Henrietta nodded. "More importantly, how is my lady mother doing?"

"She is resting now, but she still grieves for her late husband, our king. She has not left her room today either."

"Has she eaten, at least?"

"Only a little," Wardes replied. "And less by the day. Sometimes, Queen Marianne will hardly even touch the food the servants bring to her. The healers tell me that if she continues this for much longer, she puts her life in grave peril."

"I will speak with her on the morrow, then," Henrietta said. "Perhaps I can persuade her."

"If anyone can, it is only you, Your Highness," Wardes agreed.

"Yes." Henrietta turned to Alex. "I sent word yesterday for your room to be made ready by our arrival. Come with me. I'll show you where you'll be living from now on."

Alex nodded, and he followed after the princess. As they left, he glanced back over his shoulder to throw one last glare at Wardes, and it was for that reason that he noticed the knight leaning closer to Mazarin and whispering something into his ear.

"Cardinal," the mage-knight said quietly, "if I may have a word?"

* * *

"Please pardon the mess, Viscount," Mazarin said as he led Sir Wardes into his study. "I haven't had the time to put things back together, and I despise allowing the servants to do anything more than a light dusting. Never know when they might accidentally throw away some important report thinking that it's merely a piece of scrap paper or when they might misplace a book in the name of organization."

"I understand, Cardinal," Sir Wardes answered.

"Come, sit, sit," Mazarin said, gesturing over to two comfy armchairs by an unlit fireplace. He placed a few logs into the hearth and set them afire with a quick spell from his wand. "Now, what is it that you wished to speak with me about?"

"It is the matter of the princess's familiar," Sir Wardes explained. "And of the rumors that surround it. Although Her Highness instructed me to ignore these rumors, I must admit that what I have heard puts me ill at ease. I was hoping that you might offer me your wisdom."

"Certainly. Though I must admit I have yet to hear these rumors as well." Mazarin sighed. "It always surprises me how quickly word gets around. Perhaps you could enlighten me first?"

"Of course," Sir Wardes said. "The stories come in many different shades. Some say that Her Highness has summoned an ancient vampire who has starved for many centuries and now hungers for flesh and blood. Others say it is in truth a demon of the elflands, or perhaps from further beyond. Still others claim it is a fiend, one given shape and form by Her Highness's spell. There are more, but those are the least outlandish among them. But regardless of how they say it, all share the same common thread: the princess has summoned some sort of monster."

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to that," Mazarin sighed bitterly. "I knew that it would, but still I hoped. In a sense, all mages summon monsters, but hers – that 'Alex' – is just too different from what we've ever seen. It troubled all those who laid eyes upon it."

"What was it like, truthfully?"

"When Her Highness first summoned the creature, it was like... an overly large slug, I suppose, black and red and dying," Mazarin said. "But after it devoured a crow whole, all those there saw as a corpse was born, and as a dead man came to life. Founder preserve us, I pray I never see the like again."

"If it is truly as monstrous as you say, do you think we ought to be concerned?" Sir Wardes asked. "For the princess, I mean. Pardon me for overstepping my bounds, but not many are ready to be led by a young woman, especially one that is preparing to wed a foreign king, much less one that harbors such a demon in her own home."

"They will talk, as they always have," Mazarin agreed. "We cannot stop it. And yet you are right. I too cannot help but be worried for Her Highness's sake."

Sir Wardes nodded. "We have not the slightest idea of where this creature came from, what it desires, or what it is even capable of. When I think of that, I find myself unable to relax for even a second, worrying for Her Highness's life. Worse that this creature appears capable of some degree of self-thought."

"It is unnaturally intelligent, for sure," Mazarin said gravely. "Did you know? On our way here, the princess insisted that she be left alone with the beast."

"She would not allow you to ride with her?"

"The princess wished to speak with her new familiar, one-on-one," Mazarin explained. "She would not budge on the issue."

"And now I fear," Sir Wardes said. "She places too much trust in something that is far too much of an unknown."

"Yes," Mazarin said. "Sadly, this trust comes from her loneliness, her desire to have a friend."

"What of my fiancee, Louise Francois?" Sir Wardes frowned curiously. "Are they not friends still?"

"The occasional letters only do so much to assuage Her Highness's feelings."

"Then what if we were to have Louise live here in the palace as one of Her Highness's ladies-in-waiting?" Sir Wardes suggested. "With her childhood friend here with her, I think that Her Highness would not depend so much on that familiar."

"It is a possibility," Mazarin said thoughtfully. "What do you think? I dare say that you know the youngest of the Valliere better than I. Would it work?"

"Louise has always dreamed of attending the Academy of Magic," Sir Wardes said. "But she would never dare to refuse a royal command. Moreover, her own family believes that she is wasting time at the school, so they would be in support of this move."

"You speak somewhat harshly of your own fiancee," Mazarin observed.

"I love her with all my heart," Sir Wardes replied. "And while I believe in her latent talents, it does not mean that others do."

"Except for the princess," Mazarin sighed. "No, while it is a good idea, I fear it shan't work. The princess would never allow her own feelings to stand in the way of her most cherished friend's dream. Alas, at times I fear she is far too kindhearted."

"It is a noble characteristic."

"But not one that is always conducive to good rulership."

"It is true," Sir Wardes agreed gravely. "My predecessor was a subordinate to Karin the Heavy Wind, for a time, and he grew to despise her Rule of Steel. When he was named captain of the Griffin Knights, he defied her by attempting to lead with a kind heart. But kindness so often has a tendency to lead to softness, and softness to a weak hand."

"The Flight of the Griffins, I remember," Mazarin said. "The most humiliating rout suffered by any branch of the Tristanian royal forces in its entire history."

"A most disgraceful lack of discipline, and our eternal shame," Sir Wardes said bitterly. "But I digress. Apologies."

"It is nothing to apologize for," Mazarin said. "In fact, it has given me much food for thought. You are right. While a kind heart is a noble attribute, at times it must be tempered with steel. Her Highness – bless her soul – has too much kindness and not enough steel."

"What are you saying, Cardinal?"

"On the morrow," Mazarin said with a solemn expression, "I shall make a request of her to summon a new familiar."

"That... is rather drastic," Sir Wardes frowned. "Surely there are alternatives."

"There are no benefits to keeping that familiar," Mazarin said. "If it is as you say, then these rumors will only continue to spread, damaging the princess's reputation, making it more difficult for her to rule, and that's assuming that it does not turn on the princess first. Best to nip it now, while we can."

"But that will only engender new rumors," Sir Wardes argued. "In order to summon a new familiar, the previous one must first be dead. What will the people say when they learn that Her Highness had her current familiar killed just so she can summon a new one?"

"They will say it was misfortunate," Mazarin said. "For it is precisely for that reason that now is the only chance we have. Of those that were there for the festival, very few have seen the princess's familiar since it was summoned, and so they only know it as they last saw it: dreadfully weak, and dying. It is not so unreasonable a fiction to say that it perished of some wound or illness suffered prior to its summoning, or from being summoned to an unfamiliar environment. We have a precedent of a similar incident happening, after all, as the princess's grandfather proved."

"She will never agree."

"Then what would you suggest that we do, Viscount?"

"I would..." Sir Wardes began, before he was suddenly cut off as the door to the study slammed open.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Mazarin cried as a gasping knight stood at the door.

"Cardinal, Captain," the knight wheezed. "The princess... the princess and her familiar... they're _gone!_ "


	6. Rituals: Part 6

**Chapter 6**

Henrietta led Alex to the guest room closest to her own chambers. In the letter that she had sent off after summoning Alex, she had specified that it was this room in particular that was to be made ready for him upon their arrival. She wanted to make sure that Alex would always be nearby in case she wanted to talk to him, and just that thought alone filled her with immeasurable delight. She was practically giddy with the idea that here at last she had someone she could confide in, sharing with him her hopes, dreams, and especially all her complaints. She had Louise Francoise as well, of course, but it was rare to see her in person these days, and she dared not risk putting her deepest thoughts to paper.

She was also eager to learn more about Alex. So much of what he had to say had left her flabbergasted. Another world. The sheer magnitude of those two words alone left her bewildered. It made it so that it was nearly impossible for her to grasp the full scope of Alex's story. The rational reaction here would have been to decry the tale a wild fantasy.

And yet, she believed.

Where others would have dismissed Alex's tale, she believed him. She believed, even if she did not completely understand, because she had already chosen to trust him. They would have called her a gullible fool for that, but what did they know of the trust between a mage and familiar? The more Henrietta thought about it, the more she decided she had been blessed to be given Alex. Where others' familiars were often times little more than glorified pets, she had received a _friend._ The trust she had for him was already far beyond what any other mage would ever have for their own familiar.

She only hoped that Alex would come to regard her in the same light soon.

Henrietta could sense that Alex was still uncertain of her. She did not blame him. Like a newborn babe, he was still trying to figure out the world around him and the people in it, and he had not yet seen enough to leave behind his hesitancy. But no matter. It had been ten years since Louise Francoise had last come to the palace as her play date, and she had waited ten years since then to make another friend. What was a few more days or weeks or even months compared to that?

They arrived at Alex's new chambers, and Henrietta was pleased to find that it had been furnished in a way that would have satisfied even a visiting member of another royal family.

"Here it is," she said to him. "Your new room. My own quarters are down the hall, over that way."

"Hngh," Alex grunted. He stepped inside and looked around.

"What do you think?" Henrietta said. "Do you like it?"

"You didn't need to do all this for me," Alex said, turning back to look at her. "Guess I should have told you earlier, but I don't need sleep."

"But you slept when I summoned you."

"I was unconscious _._ That's completely different."

"I see." Henrietta frowned. "The nights must be terribly lonely for you, then."

Alex didn't answer her as he headed for the window. He opened it and stuck his head outside, taking in the moonlit view. Henrietta went to join him at his side, gazing out at the vast lake that sparkled silver behind the palace, listening to the gentle waves being formed by a quiet breeze.

"Regardless of whether you need to sleep or not," Henrietta said after their silence had stretched on for nearly five minutes, "you need a room to make a place your home."

"I'm not into the idea of making a cage my home, no matter how nice it is."

"You and I both," Henrietta said with a touch of sadness in her voice. "Does this mean that you want to leave?"

"What I want right now is to go into the city, get a chance to explore a bit." Alex gave her a sidelong glance. "Do you want to come with me?"

"How?" Henrietta said bemusedly. "The gates are guarded. They wouldn't let us out even if I ordered them to."

"I can get us past them," Alex said. "But you'll need to change into something less conspicuous, if you want to go."

Henrietta did not need to be asked twice. Her heart was already pounding loudly with excitement in her ears. "I'll be right back," she said before quickly heading off to her own room, where she stripped off her dress and threw it aside on the bed. She opened her large closet and searched for something appropriate. She pursed her lips tightly. It was a shame, but as a princess none of her clothes were exactly the inconspicuous type. The best she could manage was one of her spare riding habits, a darkly colored dress with the least amount of frills among her outfits. She put it on quickly, wrapped a dark brown cloak around herself, and headed back to Alex's room, where she found him still waiting by the window, leaning against the wall.

"I'm ready," Henrietta said breathlessly.

But Alex frowned when he saw her. "The dress is going to get in the way. Don't you have any pants?"

"Pants?" Henrietta looked at him in bewilderment. "Do women typically wear pants in your world?"

"Depends on which country you go to, but for the most part." Alex went over to the closet in his room and dug through it. He extracted a pair of pants and shirt that were closest to Henrietta's size and handed it to her, along with a belt. "Here, wear that," he said as he turned around to give her privacy.

Henrietta accepted the new clothes and took off her dress and cloak again. It took her a minute of fumbling around to put on the unfamiliar clothes, but once she was fully dressed Henrietta decided she rather liked the feel of it. It was both liberating _and_ forbidden, and that made it twice as sweet.

"You done?" Alex glanced over his shoulder as she put on her cloak again. "Good. Here, get on." He bent down for her so that she could climb up onto his back. She did so, and as soon as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she let out a little cry of surprise as she felt something warm and fleshy tighten around her waist and thighs. She looked down and noticed the tendrils of flesh that had grown out of Alex's body to secure her to him like a safety harness. "You need to be quiet now, or else we'll get caught."

Instead of answering, Henrietta nodded silently. Satisfied, Alex put his foot on the windowsill and heaved them up and out, turning on the ball of his foot so that they were facing the palace itself. He reared one arm back and slammed it hard against the stone wall, smashing open a small handhold for him to secure his weight with. He did the same with the other arm, and soon they were climbing up to the peak of the castle, one handhold at a time.

Halfway up, Henrietta chanced a look down. They were dizzyingly high. It was strange. She had flown on the back of a dragon before, but there was a different quality to the height now compared to then. How to put it...? It, for some reason, felt like a more precarious position to be climbing up a high wall than it was to fly over it. Henrietta could not explain why, so instead she tightened her hold on Alex.

Once they reached the peak of the tallest spire of the castle, Henrietta was afforded an amazing view. It was still terrifying, but that made the sight all the more thrilling, a sense of danger that made her blood run high. From this far up, she could see the entire city, alive with the glow of enchanted streetlights, and the dark silhouettes of the mountains, forests, and fields much farther beyond.

"It's beautiful," Henrietta whispered.

"Make sure to keep quiet," Alex warned her again. "Especially here. If you open your mouth, you'll bite your tongue."

"What are you going to do?" Henrietta couldn't help but ask. She was trusting Alex to get them out of the palace, but she still wanted to know.

"I'm going to jump," Alex told her.

"You're going to whaaaaa–!?"

Henrietta barely managed to avoid screaming as Alex suddenly kicked off the spire, launching them hundreds of feet still higher into the air. Henrietta thought she heard the sound of stone cracking as they leapt off the roof, but that was quickly drowned out by the rush of wind.

As they reached the apex of their jump, Henrietta had to close her eyes and bury her face against Alex's back. She felt like she had made a terrible mistake, a sinking feeling in her heart that coincided with the sinking feeling that came from the beginning of their descent. There was no way they would survive a fall from this high up. Could... could it be that Alex meant to kill them both?

 _No!_ Henrietta vehemently rejected the idea. Alex was confident that he could get them out of the palace, and she had no reason to doubt him or his motives. With that thought in mind, Henrietta forced her eyes to open, just in time to see Alex flatten his body so that they were parallel to the earth and spread his limbs out. A thin membrane formed underneath his arms and between his legs, catching air and slowing their fall to a controlled glide. Far below them, the nightwatch patrolled the grounds. Without the sound of beating wings to give them away, none of the guards thought to look above their heads. Even if they did, on a dark night like this, and with their relatively small size and the dark color of their clothes, Henrietta was sure they wouldn't have been noticed.

As they passed over the palace's inner walls, Henrietta began to feel concerned. At the rate they were descending, they would fall just short of the outer walls. But Alex had an answer for this too, as it turned out. Henrietta felt a sudden wind shoot out of Alex's pores, giving them a burst of movement and speed, just enough to make it over the walls and land outside of the guards' field of vision.

"That was _amazing!_ " Henrietta gushed as soon as their feet touched earth and she climbed off Alex's back. "I can't believe you can fly!"

"I can't," Alex said, bemused. "I glide."

"The difference is hardly important in this case," Henrietta laughed. "That was so exciting. Will we be able to do it again sometime?"

"We'll have to to get back into the palace."

"No, I mean the next time you wish to leave the palace, you simply _must_ take me with you again."

Alex considered this for a moment. "The next time _you_ want to," he finally said, turning away when Henrietta smiled at him. "Come on. I don't know what's where in this city. Gonna need you to show me around."

"Certainly." Henrietta wrapped her arm around Alex's. When he tried to pull his arm free, she kept him tight. "Come now, Alex. It's considered proper manners for a gentleman to lend his arm to a lady."

"I'm not a gentleman," he growled.

"That's not a problem," Henrietta said cheerfully. "Mazarin has often bemoaned that he'll never make a proper lady out of me. But we can both pretend, can't we?"

Alex grumbled wordlessly and shifted uncomfortably, but Henrietta felt his resistance cease soon after. Happily, she led him down into the city.

There wasn't much of a nightlife in the inner districts. Those that lived here were wealthy enough that their idea of a good night was to retire to their mansions to enjoy fine wine in peace, or perhaps with the company of a mistress or two. This was fortunate for Henrietta. She had been to the inner districts before, it being the only part of the city Mazarin allowed her to go to (under heavy guard, of course), and she was bored of it. It felt like it was a mere extension of the palace itself. It was the outer districts that she wanted to see, the place Mazarin had never allowed her to go to, citing that it was too dangerous for the princess. And that was where they went, after Henrietta had given Alex a quick tour of the inner district.

When Henrietta was younger, she had often wondered what it was like to live in the outer districts. It was where the majority of the mercantile and lower class citizens lived. With the naivete of youth and Mazarin's cautionary tales on her side, she had at first imagined the place as the dark criminal underbelly of otherwise beautiful Tristania. She imagined people scurrying back to their homes before the sun fell, lest they fall prey to the thieves and assassins who dominated the streets at night. But as she grew older, she realized the folly of such an image, and she knew that she knew nothing of how the people actually lived.

It was why when they arrived at the beginnings of the outer district, Henrietta was thrilled to find plenty of normal people roaming about. Men and women, and even a few children with their parents, were walking and talking in groups. Most seemed to be gathered around a tavern they found, the smell of alcohol and drunks rich in the air. Although Henrietta was not a much of a drinker, she felt the urge to join them. She wanted the experience. She quickly checked the inner pockets on her cloak, and was disappointed by the fact that she had forgotten to bring any coin with her. No matter. There would always be next time now that she had Alex with her.

They took a turn into another block, where there were rows upon rows of shops lining the cobblestone streets. Nearly all of them were closed, and those that were open were by and large the kind of places a decent woman should never enter, even with company. _Especially_ with company. In the quiet night air, Henrietta could hear the loud moans and other sensual sounds coming from inside, and that caused her to blush a furious red. She hastily pulled an unperturbed Alex back out of the street.

As they explored the city together, Henrietta would point out for Alex what she recognized and wonder aloud what she didn't. It was fun. Henrietta realized halfway into their exploration that she had not had this much fun since her last play date with Louise. For a second time, she wished that she had brought some money with her. It would have been so much better if they could also partake in the nightlife of the city, rather than merely observing.

 _Next time,_ Henrietta told herself again. _There_ will _be a next time._

It was about an hour after they had left the palace that the both of them suddenly heard a scream.

"Let go of me!" a girl's voice cried out.

Frowning, this time it was Alex's turn to lead the two of them. He pulled Henrietta along towards the source of the voice. Around the bend of an otherwise empty street, they found two men accosting a woman wearing a green dress with _very_ ample cleavage and holding a wicker basket covered with cloth.

"Come on, Jessica," one of the men, a blond with scraggly hair, slurred. He was clearly dead drunk. "If you want money, we can pay. Just once, please?"

"I told you, I'm not for sale," the girl known as Jessica snarled, before swinging her basket into the man's head. There was a bone-crunching _thunk,_ and shards of glass and fruits went flying from underneath the cloth. The man collapsed to one knee, holding the side of his head, then gingerly looked at his now bloodstained hand. Confusion turned to rage, and he rose back to his feet, somewhat unsteadily, but angry enough that it didn't matter. He seized the girl by the collar and pulled her close. "You bitch!"

Jessica headbutted him in the face.

Henrietta was impressed by the ferocity of this girl, her willingness to defend herself rather than meekly following what others said. It reminded her of everything she was not. It reminded her of Louise. But this could not be allowed to go on. For all her fierceness, she was still one girl against two men who were twice her size. The fight ended before it could even begin, as the blond man's companion swung around behind Jessica and seized her by the wrists. When she tried to kick at them instead, the blond man slapped her across the cheek, hard enough that it cut her lip open, and blood trickled out.

"Fuckin' bitch," the blond man breathed heavily. "Should've just kept your mouth shut and legs open. You and your fuckin' weird father already own a whorehouse. What's the big deal?"

"We are _not_ a whorehouse," Jessica spat back.

The blond man laughed. "You're the only ones in the city who says that." A greedy smile spread on his lips as he looked down at the girl's cleavage. His hand reached over and began to pull her dress down. "Well, don't worry. I'm fair. I'll still make sure to pay you."

It was an opening, the only one she had, the only one she would get. Jessica seized the opportunity by swinging one leg up and smashing her knee directly into the man's testicles. He yelped and whined, and collapsed to the ground, hands between his legs.

"Fuckin' bitch..." he moaned. _"Kill her!"_

The other man's hand snaked down to his side, where a long knife was sheathed at his belt. He pulled it free and raised it high, but Alex cut through the space between them like a jet of liquid darkness. He seized the man's arm with one hand, holding it a few inches below the wrist, just before the blade found flesh

"Let go of her," he growled.

The man did release Jessica, who quickly took a few steps away from them, but that was only to free up his other hand. He dropped the knife from his captured arm and deftly caught it with his free hand. He made to stab Alex, but Alex simply took his thumb and pressed it against the man's forearm until there was a short, audible _crack._

The man's mouth opened in silent scream.

Henrietta realized then that the man was not simply quiet. He was mute. As she took in this new information, Alex looked towards her. There was a question in his eyes, one that Henrietta couldn't figure out at first, but understood after a sudden realization.

She blanched.

 _Founder preserve us,_ Henrietta thought with cold dread. _He's asking me if he can_ kill _them._

Certainly, she had made Alex promise to never harm one of her people without just cause, but wasn't attempted rape and murder cause enough? If they went through the proper legal procedures, it could potentially even warrant the death sentence. But to allow Alex to just kill them, right here out in the streets, in front of her... it was a terrifying idea.

No. No. A thousand times no.

She was not ready to order the death of another man.

She was not willing to order Alex to kill another man.

"Alex," Henrietta said with a shaky voice. "Let them go."

Her familiar frowned, but did as she asked after a moment. But before he let them leave, he grabbed them both by the collars and brought their ears close to his face. He whispered something to them, something that must have terrified them, for their faces turned paler than the twin moons in the sky. As soon as they were released, they turned and bolted.

"Thanks for the help," Jessica said to them after collecting her scattered belongings. She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, looked at the crimson stain, and grimaced. "Damn. Dad's gonna be mad."

"I didn't do anything." Henrietta's mouth felt dry. "It was all Alex."

"Still, sorry for ruining your guys' night." Jessica looked at Alex, appraising him from head to toe. "You're a strong man. Weird clothes, but not bad."

"Those men," Alex said. "You know them?"

"They're customers," Jessica explained. " _Former_ customers. You can see why. Oh, yeah, 'fore I forget, I should introduce myself. The name's Jessica. Nice to meet you two."

"My name is Ann," Henrietta replied. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

"Look, I want to thank the two of you for helping me out," Jessica said. "Why don't you come back with me and I can give you guys a free drink or somethin'?"

"A drink," Henrietta echoed, and licked her lips with a dry tongue. "Yes, I think that sounds like a good idea right now."


	7. Rituals: Part 7

**Chapter 7**

The Charming Fairies Inn.

That was the name of the place that Jessica led Henrietta and Alex back to, and it was the place that she and her father owned. Upon entering, Henrietta could see why those two men who had attempted to accost Jessica had called it a whorehouse. Young women, some even younger than Henrietta herself, were serving men with food and alcohol, as they draped their arms around them, whispering sweet nothings into their ears. All the while, they wore dresses so bare that they made what Kirche had worn look modest by comparison.

"Why don't the two of you wait for me over by the bar?" Jessica jerked her thumb over at the counter. "I have to put this" – she held up her basket – "away. I'll get your drinks out right after."

"Yes, thank you," Henrietta said, and she and Alex went to sit down.

As they waited, Henrietta kept glancing aside at Alex. She had a deep sense of unease whenever she looked at him, a dark and nebulous feeling that she was altogether unhappy with. And yet it would not go away. It was like an infection that festered in her mind. She grimaced.

She had known that Alex was a killer. She had known it ever since he confessed to having killed hundreds or even thousands of people back in his own world. But there was a world of difference between knowing and _understanding._

Henrietta shuddered when she thought about the casual ease with which Alex was willing to kill someone. True, he had not verbally asked if he could kill those two men, but a question spoken without words was a question spoken loud enough regardless. Louder, sometimes.

Here at last, Henrietta finally realized what Alex meant when he told her that he was a living weapon. A weapon did not feel. A weapon did not think. A weapon was only an instrument of murder.

It was strange how one look could change so much. _Did I, somewhere in the back of my mind, not believe Alex when he told me all this?_ Henrietta wondered. _Was I merely deluding myself as to Alex's true nature? If so, what does it mean for us now?_

She needed to reassess everything, starting from the fact that Alex _was_ an inhuman mass murderer. It was not something she could choose to ignore anymore.

Part of Henrietta wanted to laugh. How naive she had been! How wide-eyed and simple! It burned her to admit that Mazarin had a point, but it was undeniable that she was at fault. She had assumed too much about Alex while knowing – _truly_ knowing – too little. But that did not matter now. The only question was, with what she now did know, what should she do? What _could_ she do?

It was a question that stumped her, and Henrietta realized that before she could answer it, there was another question that needed to be answered first.

"Alex," she said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Please tell me: would you really have killed those two men?"

"Yes," Alex answered without a hint of hesitation.

Henrietta grimaced again.

"Then why didn't you?"

"You told me not to."

"My words had no power there," Henrietta argued back. "If you followed through, regardless of what I said, there was nothing I could have done to stop it."

Alex paused to consider these words for a moment. Then he turned to look at her directly, and for the first time Henrietta saw the color of his eyes. They were blue, like hers, but a shade lighter, and harder too. An ice to her water.

"I have a sister," he finally said. "Her name is Dana. My enemies tried to take her away from me once. They got into her room, and were about to drag her away to god knows where by the time I arrived. All I could think then was that I needed to stop them. So I killed them, right there in front of her. I thought... I thought I was saving her. But that look she gave me..." Alex closed his eyes and shuddered, not from fear, Henrietta realized, but from regret. "I scared her. Scared her bad. I hated how she looked at me then." He opened his eyes again and stared at Henrietta. "And you were looking at me in the same way."

Henrietta immediately turned her head away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's not your fault," Alex said gruffly, returning his own gaze back in front of him.

"I just... I do not wish to see anyone die in front of me."

"Yeah, I get it."

 _As do I, now._ Henrietta admonished herself. She felt ashamed. It was true, Alex was a killer, and it could be that his crimes were beyond forgiveness. But he was trying to move past that, and become something more than what he was made to be. His words held consideration for her, and his actions for others. After all, hadn't he only intervened in the first place in order to save Jessica? That was a noble act, one worthy of praise, not fear. And though his first inclination may have been to kill those men, he did not. He did not, because she was there.

Alex was not an unfeeling weapon, nor was he some mere monster. She had known that once before, but was she as weak as everyone said she was that a single incident such as this was enough to shake her confidence? Were her words worth so little that she was willing to betray the very trust that she had promised to give to him?

Was she that much of a hypocrite?

No.

She had wavered for a moment, but not fallen. Hesitated, but not abandoned. Nothing would change between them. Nothing _had_ changed, except a reaffirmation of Henrietta's resolution, as well as new facts of Alex coming to light.

"You have a sister?" Henrietta was surprised by that. How does someone like Alex have siblings? "Is she... well... like you?"

"She's not a monster, no." Alex looked faintly amused. "She's a normal human being." When he saw the confusion on Henrietta's face, he explained further. "She's not actually my sister, but it's as close as it'll ever get."

"I should apologize," Henrietta said guiltily. "When I summoned you, I was so happy to have you here with me that I never even considered the possibility that you might have friends or family back in your world. I wish that there was a spell that could let me send you back."

"No friends, only Dana," Alex said. "And while I do miss her, I don't blame you. It's like you said, you never chose to summon me, and chances are good I would have died if you hadn't anyway."

"Even so, I am sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

A brief silence fell over the pair, punctuated by the noise of the waitresses and customers in the background.

"Did she ever stop fearing you?" Henrietta suddenly asked.

"I don't know," Alex confessed. "I don't think she ever really stopped being afraid of me, or at least of what I could do. She did accept me by the end, though."

"By the end?" Henrietta repeated. "Then she's... dead?"

"No," Alex said. "But she's in a coma. I have a trustworthy doctor taking care of her."

"What is a 'doctor?'"

"It's my world's word for a healer."

"Oh." Henrietta nodded. "I hope he is able to wake her."

"Yeah." Alex let out a long sigh. "Me too."

Just then, Jessica returned at last, coming down the stairs from the second floor with another person... in...

 _Founder preserve us._ Henrietta's eyes went wide. _What in Brimir's name is_ that?

At first, Henrietta thought it was a man, but then she wasn't so sure. It was a large, hulking beast in the form of a man, but it wore a ridiculously revealing and ridiculously _feminine_ blouse. With the way it was designed, one had full view of the broad chest and its carpet-like hair. And the legs. It had thighs as thick as logs, and they threatened to rip the shorts that it wore from the sheer mass of the muscles every time it took a step.

Henrietta's head whipped around to Alex, looking to him for support, but he seemed unimpressed as he shrugged back at her.

"You should see San Francisco," he said indifferently. "Men who dress as women isn't even close to the weirdest thing I've seen. This doesn't even make the top ten."

"But... _why?_ "

"Sometimes it's just for performance. It could also be because they identify as a woman, rather than a man. But I'm guessing that's Jessica's father, so that's probably not the case." Alex paused thoughtfully, then added, "Unless she's adopted."

"He _is_ a man!"

"He might not feel the same way," Alex shrugged. "Not really our place to judge, especially me." Henrietta gave him a dubious look. "I _am_ a shapeshifter, you know."

"I... I suppose." Henrietta suddenly had a horrible realization. _"There are_ more _of them in your world?"_

"Hey, you two," Jessica greeted them, forcing Henrietta's question to be left hanging in the air. "Sorry I took so long. Had to tell my dad here what happened."

"Good evening, and welcome to the Charming Fairies Inn," the bear of a man said in a voice that was too deep, too sultry, too velvet smooth for comfort. "I am Scarron, Jessica's father. Jessica told me how the two of you saved her. I want to thank you both. Along with this inn, she is the only thing I have left in this world. I wish I could reward you somehow, but I'm afraid all we have is food and drink, which I offer you freely, and a place to stay if you and your man wish to spend the night."

"He's not my man," Henrietta said, blushing slightly at the implication. "He's my friend."

"And a good fighter, from what I've heard," Scarron nodded. "My apologies. Is there anything we can get for you?"

"I've never been to a place like this before," Henrietta said. "We'll try whatever you recommend."

"Very good, then." Scarron turned to his daughter. "Jessica, keep our guests company while I prepare them their food and drink."

"You got it, Dad."

Henrietta waited for Scarron to disappear into the kitchens before turning to Jessica and blurting out, "Forgive me for my rudeness, but I simply _must_ know: how did your father and your mother... well... _meet?_ "

Jessica laughed. "I know what you're thinking. It's probably the first time seeing someone like my dad for a noble like you, huh?"

"W-what?" Henrietta stammered. "I'm not... I mean, I am not a noble."

"No use hiding it," Jessica grinned. "The way you speak gives it away. Too formal. Too stiff. If you want to pretend to be a commoner, you have to be looser. Try swearing a bit."

"Your father spoke more formally than I did," Henrietta rebutted. "Is he a noble as well?"

"My dad was being respectful because he also knows that you're a noble," Jessica laughed. "And really, who do you think you're fooling, walking around in that big cloak? That just screams you're hiding something, and at this time of night the only people that have something to hide are thieves and nobles. And since you don't strike me as the criminal sort, you must be a noble. Let me guess: he's your secret commoner lover, and you're out to meet him away from prying eyes."

"As I said, we are _not_ lovers."

" _Mmhmm,_ " Jessica grinned. "Sure, _my lady._ You don't need to worry too much about it, honest. It's not like we haven't had nobles here before. Though I'll admit it's a little weird seeing a noblewoman out this late. Usually it's the noblemen who are out looking for a good time."

Before Henrietta could protest again, Alex placed a hand on her shoulder and stared at Jessica. "I'm her familiar," he said.

"Nice try," Jessica snorted. "But even a commoner like me knows that there's no such thing as a human familiar."

"Who said I'm human?" Alex smiled thinly at her, and then let his face slag like melted wax and briefly transform into someone else.

" _Brimir's balls!"_ Jessica exclaimed, garnering attention from a few of the patrons and girls nearby. "What the hell was that?"

"I'm a shapeshifter," Alex said. "Not from Halkeginia."

"I can see that," Jessica said, clearly shaken. "Yeah, that was weird. Really weird."

"I apologize for Alex," Henrietta said. "I'm sure he didn't mean to scare you."

"Scared? Who? Me? _Pfft!_ " Jessica scoffed. "I wasn't scared. I was just surprised."

"Well, if you could keep the fact that we were here a secret, I would greatly appreciate it."

"No need to worry about that," Jessica said. "Our policy is complete confidentiality for our patrons. Long as you don't create any trouble, we won't ask or tell."

"Thank you," Henrietta said. Scarron returned then with a tray in hand, and on it there were two plates of food, two cups, and a jug of mulled wine. He set it down before them and served the wine for them.

"Please enjoy," Scarron said before leaving them to their meal again.

Henrietta took a bite. It was not the gourmet cuisine she was used to eating in the palace, but that did not mean that this was not also delicious. There was an almost gentle, welcoming taste to it, in stark contrast to the palace's stiffness. It was good and rich and warm. The wine was Tristanian. It bore the mark of Tarbes, a small village near the border of Tristain that was known for its vineyards. Henrietta had never been there before, but she found the taste delightful. She drank long and deep from her cup, and within seconds felt its warmth permeating her veins.

"My dad didn't always used to be that way," Jessica said as they ate. "It's just, when mom died, I think something inside of him died too. I don't know. I think he dresses like that because he wanted to make sure I grew up with both a mom and a dad." She chuckled in embarrassment and scratched her nose. "Can't say it was the most well thought out plan, but I wouldn't trade him for any other mother or father in the world."

Henrietta glanced over in the direction of the kitchens. She swallowed the morsel she was chewing on and said, "He must have tried very hard to raise you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have judged him so quickly."

"Don't worry," Jessica said. "You're not the first, and you definitely won't be the last. Most people are a lot ruder about it, but Dad never lets it get to him."

"He must be a very strong man."

"Yeah," Jessica agreed. "He's got a great arm, too. You should see what happens to some of our more rowdy customers. Dad just picks them right up and throws them out."

"I wish my mother was as strong as your father," Henrietta sighed.

"Your mother?" Jessica arched an eyebrow. "Not your father?"

"My father is dead, and my mother is in grief," Henrietta explained. "She hardly eats anymore. I'm told if she continues, I may end up losing her too."

"Everyone has their own way of dealing with loss," Jessica commiserated.

"But she isn't 'dealing' with it," Henrietta retorted, surprised at the bitterness in her own voice, and even more that she was saying it now, to this stranger. Was it the alcohol or the exhilaration from being out in the city that was making her do this? She didn't know. But the words continued to flow out unstoppably. "My mother runs from the grief. She cowers before it. Does she even realize that she'll be leaving behind her daughter to tend to both her parents' graves if she maintains this course? She has not even a fraction of your father's strength."

Henrietta's face flushed red, not from embarrassment from her sudden outburst, but from anger. She hadn't realized how much repressed feelings she had on the matter, nor did it seem like Jessica knew how to respond to it. In the end, it was Alex that broke the tension between them by changing the subject.

"That girl," he said, and the two of them followed his line of sight over to a waitress in a white dress. "Her right leg. It's been hurt."

"What makes you say that?" Jessica said.

"She covers it up by swaying her hips," Alex said, "but if you look closely you can tell she's actually limping. It's an old wound. That girl over there – I saw a big scar on her back for a little bit when she bent down to pick something up. She's been burned."

"Wow," Jessica said dryly. "Does the word privacy mean nothing to you?"

Alex shrugged. "Do they have a story?"

"Well, since you were kind enough to put it all out in the open, I suppose there's no harm in telling the two of you," Jessica sighed. "But you have to keep it to yourselves."

"I promise," Henrietta said, and Alex grunted his acknowledgment as well.

"Anna over there wasn't injured, but she _was_ born with willow-legs," Jessica said. "Her family was too poor to get her treated, so she grew up like that." Jessica clicked her tongue. "It's not easy living with a deformity. People never let you forget that you're different. Ever. Sometimes, there are those who'd would rather not live like that at all. Luckily, my dad found her first, and he paid for a water mage to heal her. But since it's been so long, she still has a bit of a gait.

"Lydia got trapped in a fire that nearly killed her. Even though she was rescued, she and her family lost everything. Their home, all of their savings, all of their things. She had hoped to get a job as a maid with some noble or at the Academy, but she hasn't had much luck. So Dad took her in too, gave her a place to stay and work until she can move on to a better job." Jessica paused and looked around the inn. "Many of the girls here share similar stories."

"And your father took them all in?" Henrietta said in wonder. "Your family must be deeply in debt."

Jessica snorted. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"Then why does he do it?"

"I think it has to do with Mom again," Jessica said. "He used to more careful with his money, but after she died I guess he started empathizing with other people a lot more. Saw what happened to us in them. Now he likes to say that money comes and goes, so what's important is that we take care of each other." She scratched her nose and laughed quietly. "Well, I can't say I like how loose he can be with money, but I do admire it. Look, I guess what I'm trying to say is that if your mom is grieving and can't get up on her own, you should support her. Be her strength, you know? Just like my dad is for everyone here."

"I see." Henrietta slowly smiled. "I see." She stood up and faced the other girl. "Thank you, Jessica. I think I am very fortunate to have met you tonight."

"You're leaving?" she asked.

"Yes," Henrietta said. "This was a good night. I am satisfied. And, truth be told, I'm not supposed to be out like this. Any longer, and I fear there may be a crisis."

"Then don't let me keep you here," Jessica said, waving her off. "Goodbye, Ann."

Henrietta smiled and nodded at her.

"Farewell."


	8. Rituals: Part 8

**Chapter 8**

The castle was in an uproar by the time they returned. Knights and guards alike were swarming all throughout the courtyards and buildings, their search having even spilled over into the city itself. Henrietta felt rather guilty over causing such pandemonium, but not regretful. This was the consequence of the choice she had made, but were she to be faced with the same choice all over again, she knew she would have made the same decision. These last few hours of freedom had been too sweet.

That was why instead of sneaking back into the castle, as Alex suggested, Henrietta chose instead to walk in directly through the front gates, back straight, chin up, as though she had only been returning from an evening stroll. She ignored the shouts from the knights and the guards saying that the princess had been found, that she had returned, and instead marched directly to the front doors of the castle, where Mazarin and Sir Wardes awaited.

The Cardinal had a severe look about him. His lips were pressed so tightly together that his lips had nearly disappeared into a thin pink line. His jaws were tight; his brow furrowed. The Viscount, as always, had a more neutral expression, cool and unreadable.

"Alex," Henrietta said, looking to her side, "it's best if I talk to them alone. Will you return to your room?"

The shapeshifter nodded.

"Thank you," Henrietta said. "For tonight as well."

Alex left, leaving the three of them alone together. Once he was gone, Mazarin exploded, "What were you thinking, Your Highness!?"

"Cardinal, peace," Sir Wardes said calmly. "You're making a scene."

" _I'm_ making a scene?" Mazarin said incredulously. He gestured widely at the courtyard, at all the men who were watching them. "I am not the one who caused _this!_ Have you any idea how worried we were, Princess?"

"I understand, and I apologize," Henrietta said. "But perhaps it would be best if we sleep on the matter and speak of it on the morrow? It's been a long night, and I am quite tired."

"No, Your Highness," Mazarin said firmly. "We must discuss this now."

"Then let us at least retire to my study," Henrietta sighed. "I'd like to sit down."

Grudgingly, Mazarin conceded. The three of them went into the castle and to Henrietta's study. There she gratefully collapsed into her chair at her desk, while Mazarin lit up the fireplace for them. Then he and Sir Wardes stood before her, and Henrietta could feel that this night was not about to end any time soon.

"Now then," Henrietta said. "It would seem that you have much to say, Cardinal. Let us dispense with the formalities for the moment and speak freely."

"Yes, Your Highness," Mazarin said. "In that case, what I would like to know is what on earth possessed you to run away from the castle on your own."

"I wasn't on my own," Henrietta replied. "I had Alex with me. As for my reasons, I thought it would be nice to stretch my legs, so to speak."

"That was foolish of you," Mazarin snapped. "It was far too dangerous. What if you had gotten hurt, or worse?"

"I was perfectly safe, I assure you," Henrietta sighed. "As I said, I had Alex with me. Honestly, Cardinal, you are making a mountain out of a molehill right now."

"You do not yet realize that is what worries me the most," Mazarin said gravely. "It is as I thought. I have no other choice."

"Cardinal?"

The elderly man straightened his back and squared his shoulder, looking Henrietta directly in the eyes. "Your Highness, I would request that you summon a new familiar."

Henrietta smiled at him, as she cocked her head curiously. "What are you talking about, Cardinal? You know as well as I do that a new familiar cannot be summoned until the previous one..." Her smile faded. "Oh."

"I urge you to think this over calmly," Mazarin said quietly.

"Cardinal," Henrietta ground out, her jaw clenched tightly. "Do you have any idea what you are saying right now?"

"Yes," Mazarin said somberly. "I am asking you to kill your familiar."

"No," Henrietta shook her head. "You are asking for more than that. Far more. You are asking me to violate the sacred trust between mage and familiar. It would be in defiance of the holy ritual passed down to us by the Founder himself. You ask of me, sir, to commit an act as heinous as murder. No, in fact, in this case you _are_ asking me to commit murder, or be accomplice to it."

"I understand how you feel, Your Highness," Mazarin said. "Believe me, it is no easy thing for me to ask this of you either."

"Really?" Henrietta retorted. "Because I didn't notice even a hint of hesitation when you said it."

"Only because it is something that must be done, for your own sake," Mazarin replied. "The simple fact of the matter, Your Highness, is this: that familiar is unsuitable for you."

"The summoning spell summons the familiar _most_ suitable for the mage."

"For the _mage,_ yes," Mazarin agreed. "But you are not merely Henrietta the mage. You are not Henrietta the girl. You are Henrietta the Princess of Tristain. You have responsibilities and an image to uphold. But that familiar, just by existing, causes other nobles to speak more ill of you. Moreover, not even a day has passed since it arrived that you run away from the castle without so much as a single thought as to the consequences of your actions. It is clearly a bad influence on you."

"And just for that you ask me to kill Alex?" Henrietta demanded. "For hearsay and my own lack of discipline, you would have him _murdered?_ That is ridiculous!" She turned her glare towards Sir Wardes. "Viscount, was it you that filled the Cardinal's head with poisonous gossip?"

"Do not blame Sir Wardes," Mazarin interjected. "He attempted to dissuade me from this course of action."

"Then I thank you, Viscount," Henrietta said. "It is a pity that you failed, however."

"I apologize, Your Highness," Sir Wardes murmured.

"Your Highness, you do not understand," Mazarin sighed wearily. "But perhaps the fault lies with me for not teaching you all that you need to know. Then attend. Your Highness, where do you suppose you stand as princess and, more, as future queen of Tristain?"

"Are we to speak of more rumors and gossip now?" Henrietta said irritably. "Frankly, I grow weary of it. I already know what the people say of me."

Mazarin shook his head. "Those are but symptoms and signs. It is what lies underneath that you must be made aware of."

"I'm sure you'll explain it to me, in that case," Henrietta drawled.

"Not long ago, you said to me that I am better suited to rule than you are," Mazarin said. "You are wrong. If that were true, I would have served you and Queen Marianne better in my capacity as regent. I would have been able to hold onto the power that your late and honorable father had so carefully consolidated for the crown. Instead, through my incompetence, I let it all slip away. And now you are in a most precarious position. For you see, if all the power in the state were to be quantified, we could roughly divide it into three parts: one for the crown, the second for the Vallieres, and the third for all the other nobles to squabble over.

"It is this last group that you must be concerned about. Right now, they are divided, each hoping to become the third great power of the state, and as such they pose no threat to you. But suppose they should come together. Suppose that they find a common purpose, a common enemy in the crown. Then your fate would be as the gods playing with dice. And this is but one of the reasons why you must take such care to preserve your good name."

"Have care, Cardinal," Henrietta warned him. "Your argument reeks of paranoia. I doubt that rumors alone will foment rebellion."

"Just as a wand left alone will not cast a spell, it is true," Mazarin nodded. "But is there not someone who would pick up that wand? Someone who would fan a spark into a roaring flame? Is there not someone who has, already, declared his intent to depose and supplant all the royal families of Halkeginia in order to gather the armies of man under a single banner and march on the Holy Land?"

"Cromwell," Henrietta bitterly spat out the leader of Reconquista's name.

Mazarin nodded. "Here is what I believe our enemies in Albion will try to do: They will send in their spies into our country, and they will seek to foment ill will towards your name. They will find support amongst those most discontented with the current power structure of Tristain. They will be that firm guiding hand that will gather the swarming lesser nobles into a mighty force. And then they will take the country, crown and all."

"If it comes to rebellion, the crown and the Vallieres will stand together and face it," Henrietta said firmly. "You said it yourself: together, we control two-thirds of the power."

"Their youngest daughter aside, the Vallieres are loyal to the country first and foremost," Mazarin replied. "While they will never betray you, so long as you do not turn out to become a despot, neither will they ever truly support you, not until you have proven yourself a worthy leader for the country. If they believe that Tristain would be better served by surrendering instead of risking ruin by engaging in civil war for the sake of a queen they do not believe in, then that is exactly what they will do. And fostering rumors that you harbor a demon in your own home does not ameliorate yourself in their eyes."

"And killing my own familiar would?"

"I have discussed that at length already with Sir Wardes," Mazarin said. "Most of those who have seen your familiar think it to be dying. Only a few know how much healthier it's become. It will be a relatively simple matter to excuse its untimely death as a result of causes beyond our control." Seeing the pained look on Henrietta's face, Mazarin's expression softened, becoming more sympathetic. "Sometimes, Your Highness, and especially for one in an exalted position like yours, there is no such thing as a winning move. There is only the lesser of two evils."

"Can I not just keep Alex away from public view?" Henrietta protested. "If no one ever sees him in public, the rumors can never be confirmed."

"But neither will they go away," Mazarin said. "And in this case, absence of evidence may as well be evidence of truth."

"I do not like this."

"And yet, Princess, you must make the choice."

"Yes," Henrietta sighed, and then a defiance came over her. "Yes, you're right. It _is_ a choice. _My_ choice. I thank you for your wisdom, Cardinal, and I choose to reject it."

"Your Highness–" he began.

"No, Cardinal," Henrietta cut him off. "Now it is time for you to listen to me. Everyone who was at the festival saw Alex as he took the shape of a man from a formless mass, so everyone there knows that he is capable of shapechanging. Now suppose, then, what might happen if I were to have Alex killed and summon a new familiar in his place. These other nobles will see this new familiar and ask themselves this: 'Is it a new familiar, or the old one in disguise? If it's the latter, why does our future queen seek to deceive us? For what purpose? And does she think us so stupid that we would be so easily fooled by such a simple trick?'

"You see, whether or not Alex is killed, these fears that you have that his existence will be used against me will not simply go away. In which case, I would rather surround myself with people whom I trust in order to stand against the coming storm rather than send them away. And I trust Alex, even if you do not."

"It is dangerous," Mazarin said. "You saw how it devoured that bird upon its summoning. It was unnatural. That creature is unnatural."

"A _bird!_ " Henrietta exclaimed. "I am much bigger than a bird. Far less helpless, too."

"It was much smaller when it ate that bird. It has grown quite large since then."

"Fair enough," Henrietta said. "But if Alex wanted to hurt me, he would have done so on our way to Tristania. And you saw how when I asked him to help me out of my carriage earlier this evening, he did so, didn't you? Would he have done something like that if he meant me ill?"

"A poor argument," Mazarin countered. "In both cases, the familiar was surrounded by trained knights who would have obliterated it if it had harmed even a single hair on Your Highness's head."

"Then our outing just now," Henrietta said. "We were gone for long enough that not even you can deny that Alex had plenty of time to harm me, or even kill me, and escape, and he chose not to."

"I make no claims as to know _what_ goes on in that creature's mind," Mazarin said. "It may very well be that it's simply not hungry at the moment, or perhaps something even more sinister."

"Or perhaps you are simply being too paranoid." Henrietta sighed. "You often complain that I can be too head-strong, Cardinal. I do not think you realize that I get it from you."

"What I would like to know," Sir Wardes said softly, "is how the two of you managed to escape from the palace without alerting a single guardsman. In our investigation, we found holes on the wall outside your familiar's room leading up to the roof, but the trail ran cold there."

"Alex can glide," Henrietta confessed. "He carried me on his back, and we flew right over the walls."

"Remarkable," Sir Wardes said. "I am curious as to what else it... _he_ can do."

"Ask him, if you wish to know," Henrietta said. "Though considering what your first meeting with him was like, I expect you'll receive an unfavorable answer."

"True," Wardes agreed.

"Sir Wardes," Mazarin said with a disappointed look on his face. "Please do not tell me that you now condone Her Highness retaining this creature?"

"Forgive me, Cardinal," Sir Wardes replied. "But you see, I am a military man first and foremost. Thus, my first inclination is to review new elements as either an asset or a liability. I came to you to seek your advice because I feared this 'Alex' would prove to be the latter. Now I begin to wonder if he'll be an asset instead. Yet, I also understand why you are concerned, and I believe you have a point. And so, I would like to propose now the solution I meant to suggest to you before we were interrupted by Her Highness's... ahh... leave of absence."

"Let us hear it," Henrietta said.

"From henceforth Your Highness's familiar must be kept separate from you at all times," Sir Wardes said, "except when you are accompanied by a suitable guard to ensure your safety. I shall handpick a few of them for you myself."

"Yes," Mazarin said immediately, bobbing his head up and down, but Henrietta only looked around in mock wonder.

"My, having a protector to protect me from a familiar whose purpose it is to protect me. What novelty!"

"I understand that this upsets you," Sir Wardes said. "I can only beg for your understanding. If nothing else, I ask you to do this to put the minds of your retainers at ease."

"If it will do that, then fine," Henrietta sighed exasperatedly, then shot Mazarin an annoyed glare. "Now, if that is all, I would very much like to get to bed."

"Yes, thank you, Your Highness," Sir Wardes said as he and Mazarin bowed low, and he smiled. "Good night."

* * *

Once the Viscount and the Cardinal had departed from the room, Henrietta leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She sighed wearily. She wasn't as tired as she had made it seem in front of her two retainers, but she _was_ tired. It had been a long day, and she was ready to turn in for the night. But there was one last thing that needed to be done before that.

"You can come out now," Henrietta said out loud.

There were a few seconds of silence, broken only for the crackling of the fireplace. Then the window to her study creaked open from the outside, and Alex Mercer entered the room.

"How did you know?" he said, brows furrowed. "I made sure that I wasn't seen or heard. How did you know I was there?"

Henrietta opened her eyes and looked at him, and, despite her rising exhaustion, she smiled. "It's the familiar's contract," she explained, bringing one hand up to the center of her chest. "A mage can instinctively feel when their familiar is near."

That answer only seemed to confuse Alex more. "How?" he said.

"I don't know," Henrietta admitted. "It's one of the idiosyncrasies of the familiar's contract."

"Magic," Alex grumbled. "Figures."

Henrietta cocked her head. "You do not like magic?"

"I just don't get how it works."

"Perhaps I can explain it to you," Henrietta offered. "In the morning, though, after I've had some sleep."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Henrietta said. "With that said, may I ask why you were eavesdropping on us, Alex?"

"I was curious what those two had to say," Alex admitted. "They don't seem to like me very much." He snorted. "Can't say I do either, though."

"Mazarin will come around eventually," Henrietta promised. "He can just be a bit pigheaded at times. As for the Viscount... well, admittedly he's a little cold, but he's a good man. He's Louise's fiance and a loyal knight. Once the two of you understand each other better, I think you'll get along rather well."

"Doubt it," Alex scoffed.

"Just don't get into a fight with him," Henrietta sighed. "No good would come of it."

"I know," Alex said. "I'll leave you so you can go to sleep now."

"Wait," Henrietta called out, stopping him just as he turned to exit out the window. "There is a matter in which I require your assistance."

Alex turned back around. "What is it?"

"It is about Jessica, and her father," Henrietta said. "I was ineffably rude to them earlier, and I would like to properly make amends." She opened a drawer in her desk and rummaged around through it until her fingers wrapped around something cold and metallic and around the size of her palm. She took it out, and produced a brass key. "Take this. It opens the treasury room on the east wing of the palace, the room with the large metal doors. Take a small bag with you and fill it with as many gold and silver coins as you can. Then deliver it to them. Could you do that for me, without being seen?"

"Shouldn't be too hard," Alex replied.

"Good," Henrietta said. "Then hold just one minute. I'll need to write a small note of apology to go with it as well."


	9. Rituals: Part 9

**Chapter 9**

A cool wind blew in through the window when Alex opened it. In the grim, grey glow of dawn, the entire world seemed to be covered in shadows. Yet, despite the poor visibility, the guards that now patrolled the grounds far below were still clearly visible to him. Their sword-wands were giving them away, as they emitted an aura of light which was used to illuminate the mages' path, much like a flameless torch. But just in case, Alex switched to thermal vision to verify their number by their heat signatures instead.

After a quick count, Alex found that the number of guards patrolling both inside and outside the palace had more than doubled compared to earlier that night. He was not surprised. In fact, he had expected something like this. Both Mazarin and Wardes had made it clear after his and Henrietta's brief excursion into the city that they were keen on stopping it from happening again.

 _Mazarin._ Alex's lips curled at the mere thought of the old man's name. Without thinking, his hands wrapped tightly around the windowsill, cracking it from the immense amount of pressure. The conversation he had overhead between the Cardinal and Henrietta was still fresh in Alex's mind, and it irked him to no end. _If you want me dead, come and try to kill me yourself, bastard._

It was the way that Mazarin had tried to turn Henrietta against him that angered Alex so much. It was a conniving method. More than once after that Alex had mulled over the idea of taking preemptive action against Mazarin; take him out _before_ he could cause any more trouble. Alex was not the type of person who was content with sitting back and letting his enemies make the first move, if he could help it, after all, and Mazarin had clearly labeled himself as an enemy.

He was not the kind of enemy that Alex was used to, it was true. He was a new type, one that came at him not with guns and tanks or claws and fangs, but rather with words and arguments. But that did not change what he was, nor did it do anything to abate Alex's temper.

Ultimately, what stayed Alex's hand was the knowledge of what would happen if he killed Mazarin.

It was as though circumstances had deliberately conspired to make this new type of enemy infinitely more frustrating than both Blackwatch and the infected. In a way he was invincible. Whether Mazarin knew it or not, he had girded himself in an armor far more complete than any tank or ship or hive or fortress. He wore an armor known as Henrietta.

Despite their clash of opinions, Mazarin still had Henrietta's trust, and he was still one of her closest advisers. Should Alex kill him, then as the newest arrival to the palace he would naturally become the number one suspect, with or without evidence. And it was possible then that in death Mazarin would do what he could not in life: he would prove himself right about Alex in Henrietta's eyes, and turn her against him.

When he had first arrived in this world, Alex found it hard to believe that he had been summoned for the sole purpose of being Henrietta's friend. He had been convinced that she had some ulterior motive in summoning him, if not prior to his summoning then surely after she learned of what he could do. As such, he regarded her with no small amount of suspicion, and until last night he had no real attachment to either her or to whatever bonds she claimed to exist between them. Had Mazarin made his proposal then, Alex would not have been so troubled right now.

But in spite of his suspicions, Alex had followed Henrietta because he was curious about what he could find if he stayed by her side, in the hopes that perhaps his suspicions were misplaced. And over these past few days, he had begun to wonder if being her friend was truly all that Henrietta wanted from him. He wondered if there truly wasn't some other ulterior motive which he had not yet uncovered. At the very least, he had yet to see anything that suggested to the contrary. And when he thought like that, he began to wonder what a life here might mean for him. Peace. Companionship. Foreign words. Words that he had experienced only through the lives of others. Words he wanted to know for himself.

If Alex had followed Henrietta out of curiosity before, then he did so now because he was invested.

And yet there was still a part of Alex that held back. He was willing to give Henrietta the benefit of the doubt – more than that, in fact – but he could not reciprocate her trust. He could not take hold of the hand she reached out to him with. A not insignificant part of him still hesitated, and he remembered the last time he put his faith into someone so blindly. He remembered his, or rather the original Mercer's ex-girlfriend, Karen Parker.

When he first met Karen, he thought that the two of them would be able to put a stop to the viral outbreak in Manhattan, together. Even though there were so many enemies all around them, he had her by his side. And he thought... he thought that would be enough.

He was wrong.

Karen Parker betrayed him. She sent him into a trap that was meant to – and almost _did_ – kill him. She even helped create the cancer weapon that was used to try to take him down, tricking him into collecting the very material that was needed to make it. And although he survived, it had been at the temporary cost of his powers, and a great deal of pain. When he later regained control, he killed her for her treachery.

It was a bitter memory. He took no pleasure or gratification in it. It was just something that had to be done, both to punish her for her betrayal and to ensure that she could not help produce the cancer weapon again.

But even that was only a small part of why he hesitated now. It was not just Karen he remembered when he thought of Henrietta. She was more of a periphery. It was Dana. It was always Dana. His sister.

What Alex wanted was for Henrietta to know what he had done, why he had done it, what he had become and to... what, forgive him? No, it was not forgiveness he sought. There would be no forgiveness for that. But he did want her to accept him. To understand him. Only, he wasn't sure that she could.

Henrietta knew that he was going to kill those two would-be rapists. He hadn't said it, but he could tell from the look in her eyes that she knew, and she had trembled at the thought of it. And although she had chosen to either ignore or accept what had happened and move on, Alex couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had taken it just a step further, if he had followed through and torn those scum limb from limb.

Would she have accepted him then? Or would it have been too much for her?

It was Dana he was seeing again, flinching away from him as he tried to tell her, to make her _understand,_ what he was and would do, what he was _meant_ to do.

Alex frowned. Trust was a two-way street, but right now it could only go one way. What he needed now was time. Time to think, time to process, time to figure out what it was he wanted to do next. But there was one thing he _did_ know: whatever he decided to do, simply abandoning Henrietta was no longer an option for him.

The sun was rising over the horizon now, and the world was turning gold and bright. The guards were getting ready to change shifts. Alex turned away from the window and switched his eyes back to normal. It was time for him to make his move as well.

He first went over to the full length mirror in his room and transformed himself into a nondescript man wearing the garb of a knight. After making sure that his disguise was complete, he grabbed the bag of gold and silver coins he had raided from the treasury and pressed it up against his stomach. His flesh trembled as it swallowed the bag whole, storing it inside a newly formed bladder-like organ. As he did this, Alex couldn't help but to muse about Henrietta again. It was things like this that had made him reconsider how he viewed Henrietta. It spoke well of her character and humanity.

Switching back to his thermal vision for a moment, Alex checked the hallways and made sure that no one was there. Once he was clear, he quietly opened the door and slipped outside.

Alex took the long way outside. Without having consumed and stolen the appearance of a true knight, Alex was banking on the fact that he could still hide himself in plain sight by mingling in with the heightened number of guards. It was for that reason that he had chosen the face of a man as plain as could be, to minimize how much he stood out. He also did not want to risk encountering one of those who might actually recognize him for what he was, or rather what he was not. Conveniently, the path that he was taking now also happened to take him away from Henrietta's room, which was where the bulk of the guards seemed to be centered around.

His luck held. Alex soon found himself out in the courtyards without trouble. There he joined the outgoing knights past the inner walls, but while they headed for their barracks in the outer courtyard, Alex slowed his pace until he was at the end of the line and slipped away from them. He used the buildings as cover, moving from alley to alley until he arrived just short of the outer walls.

With the wider perimeter that the outer walls covered, the knights here were more thinly spread, but they still had nearly perfect coverage with each other. There were no blind spots for Alex to take advantage of, and any changing of the guard would move inward, while he needed to go outward.

 _I need to think about this,_ Alex mused. With the sun rising, he couldn't go over the walls without being seen. The gates were likewise not an option. So if both above and through the middle were closed to him, then the only option left was to go below.

Alex found himself a secluded area and got to work. His fingers turned to pointed spears, which he used to stab into the earth. There they grew and extended, hardened and thickened, twisting left then right as they tunneled their way forward. Once he felt his fingers break just below the surface of the ground on the other side of the wall, he expanded his arm into a hollow tube and then broke it off, letting the biomass reinforce the tunnel so that it wouldn't collapse in on itself, much in the same way he had seen Elizabeth Greene use infected biomass to reinforce captured buildings well beyond their original structural integrity.

Alex crawled into the tunnel, using a large nearby stone and some dirt to hide the hole he left behind. He would fill it back up properly after he returned. Once he was out on the other side, he disappeared into the trees and bolted for the city, abandoning his disguise.

Compared to their late night excursion, the city was so much quieter at this time of the day. Everyone was asleep, whether in their homes on a comfy bed or in the bars in a drunken stupor. It made it easy for Alex to quickly make his way back to the Charming Fairy Inn, as he did not need to worry overmuch about someone seeing him.

When he arrived at the inn's doorstep, he withdrew the bag of coins from inside of him and placed it on the ground. But as he was about to knock on the door and leave, he suddenly smelled something odd, yet also incredibly familiar.

Alex raised his nose to the air, sniffing deeply as he strengthened his olfactory system. _Is that... oil?_

Finding it strange, Alex followed the scent, tracking it around the inn to its fenced in backyard. The lock on the gate had been broken, and was hanging halfway open. Alex crept inside, and what he saw there made him silently snarl.

Hunched over the edge of the building were the two men he had chased away the night before. One man had a small cask in hand, emptying its black contents all along the inn's foundation, while his partner held a flickering torch.

 _Did they come here for revenge?_ Alex briefly mused. _Probably._

Alex's response was as swift as it was silent. In an instant both of his arms transformed into a swarming host of smaller tendrils, which wrapped around the two men, choking them by the throat so that they could not scream, tightening around their arms and legs so that they could not move. A single tendril split off to catch the torch and smother the head, extinguishing the bright-orange flames, before flicking the smoking remains far away.

Completely immobilized, Alex drew the two rapists-turned-arsonists in towards him, looking into their eyes, wide with fear.

"I told you that if I ever saw either of you again, I would kill you," Alex growled. "You had a chance to walk away from this."

" _Mmnngh!"_ the blond man rasped, as his face turned purple from lack of oxygen and his eyes bulged from their sockets.

"No, don't speak," Alex said, his tendrils gripping into their throat-flesh all the more tightly. "I'm about to know everything you have to say anyway."

* * *

When morning came, Henrietta found herself standing alone before the doors to the queen's chambers. It was an enormous thing, easily twice as tall as Henrietta and five times as wide, and beautiful as well. It had been carved from pure white oak, and was engraved with the symbol of the Tristanian royal house in the center: a blooming lily, normally white but encrusted with gold here in order to better stand out against the wood. When the doors were opened, so too was the flower.

Normally, the doors alone were enough to make it obvious that this was a room for kings and queens. But today all Henrietta could think of when she looked upon it was the gateway to the underworld. The dour stench of misery was a palpable thing here, even through the thick oak and walls, and it made Henrietta grimace.

"Mother?" Henrietta knocked on the door. When no response came, she knocked again. "Mother, are you there? It's me, Henrietta."

When the response finally came, it was slurred like a drunkard's, and muffled by the thickness of the door. "Leave me, Daughter."

"Mother, please open the door," Henrietta said insistently. "I need to see you."

"Seek the Cardinal if you need help," Queen Marianne replied. "I cannot help you. Leave me to my grief."

"I summoned a familiar." Henrietta tried twisting the doorknob, but it remained firmly locked in place. "I wish to introduce him to you."

"I have seen hundreds of familiars already. I do not need to see another."

"This one is not like any of the others," Henrietta said. "He can think and speak, just as we can, and more. You will not believe this, but he hails from another world!"

"A fanciful tale. But what of it?" the queen sighed. "Your father was of this world, and now he is gone, so I care not for this world or any others."

"Father is dead," Henrietta said desperately, "but _I_ am alive. Your _daughter_ is alive. And these are trying times. I need you with me, Mother, now more than ever."

"Forgive me, but there is nothing I could do for you. For anyone. My heart is gone, and only my body remains behind."

"That is your grief speaking."

"Grief and sorrow are all I have left. Leave me to them."

"Are they so much better company than I, your own daughter, that you would spurn me, Mother?" Henrietta said. "I am still here with you. If you cannot stand on your own, let me be your strength. Let me help you, Mother. Please open this door."

"I do not want help. I only wish to be left alone."

Henrietta sighed, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against the door. "Mother," she said quietly. "In a week I will be leaving for Germania. There I will meet with Emperor Albrecht in order to finalize the details of our wedding and alliance. Once I am wed, chances are good that I may never return to Tristain again. This may be the last chance we have to see each other. Please, Mother. Open the door."

There was no reply.

Henrietta sighed again.

"I will come back tomorrow, and the day after, and again until I must leave," Henrietta said. "Please eat and take care of yourself in the meantime, Mother. I love you."

* * *

Wardes stared at the report in his hands, the inked words reflecting in his steel-grey eyes. Leaning on the wall across the room was a man with long, thick hair tied back into a bushy tail. He stifled a yawn and watched Wardes through half-lidded eyes.

"So, Foquet has infiltrated the Academy." A thin smile spread on Wardes's lips. "First the familiar, now this. Such opportunities these wild cards bring." He looked up at the knight. "When did this happen?"

"Eh. 'bout a month ago, I guess?" The knight shrugged nonchalantly. "A brother crossed paths with her a long time ago, so he was able to recognize her when he happened to be there when she duped that old man at the school into giving her a job."

"Wait, Foquet is a she?" Wardes's brows lifted in surprise. "No, never mind that. It's not important. What matters is why you and your brother did not report this to me much sooner."

The knight shrugged again, causing Wardes to scowl. "He was drunk and forgot. Only remembered it recently when he happened to go back to the tavern he saw her at."

Wardes grunted in disapproval, but said nothing.

"So," the knight pushed himself off the wall, flashing his too-white teeth, his golden eyes gleaming, "should we go kill her?"

"Hm..." Wardes stroked his beard slowly. "No. Not quite yet."

"Ah, come on!" the knight sighed explosively. "I swear, ever since you became a fuckin' knight, you've become so slow!" The knight became plaintive. "What happened, Wardes? What happened to the old you?"

"I learned the value of patience," Wardes said icily. "Of cunning and discipline. I learned that sometimes one needs to take the longer path in order to achieve one's goals, and that shortcuts do not always exist. I've grown, Marrok. Have you?"

" _Tsk."_ Marrok crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall again. "You were much more fun when we were younger."

"This isn't about fun."

"No," Marrok sighed and unfolded his arms. "I guess not. Still, why don't you want to act on this? You would raise the princess's opinion of you."

"True," the wind mage agreed as he set the report down on his desk and made a steeple of his fingers. "But there are many ways to move a piece on the board. To kill her is one way. To use her is another. And Foquet may prove to provide a most unique opportunity in the near future. Keep me updated on this matter."

"I don't really understand," Marrok frowned, "but if that's what you want."

"It is," Wardes said. "In the meantime, how would you and a few of your brothers feel about becoming the princess's new personal guard?"

Marrok snorted derisively. "Sounds fucking boring."

Wardes pursed his lips together. "It would be most beneficial for us all if you were to agree."

"Why don't you do it yourself, Mister Captain of the Guard?"

"My place is here," Wardes said. "Once the princess and the cardinal have left for Germania, I will be free to secretly sow more rumors and further dissent against the crown, and continue the search for allies."

"Fine, fine. If you say so," Marrok grumbled. "You really have become slow, you know that?"

"Do not complain so much, old friend," Wardes said. "Do your part and I promise that the kill will belong to you and your brothers."

Marrok's lips slowly spread into a wide grin full of predatory hunger.

"All hail Reconquista."

Wardes smiled back.

"For the Holy Lands."


	10. Rituals: Part 10 (End)

**Chapter 10**

It was just past noon when Alex arrived at the lake behind the palace, led there by one of the castle servants. The sun was reflecting off the waters, making it sparkle like silver. Henrietta stood by the shore facing the lake, accompanied by another man; a knight judging by his uniform. When she heard them approach, she turned, and right away Alex could tell that she was in a foul mood. Her expression was terse and tight, her shoulders tense, and though she did relax slightly upon seeing him, it took a visible effort to do so.

The cause of her temper most likely had to do with the knight that stood beside her, or rather the actions of those whom he represented. He was a large and heavily built man, whose muscles were so thick that they bulged out against the padded blue cloth of his uniform. His coarse and tawny hair was tied back into a bushy ponytail, while a trimmed beard partially concealed an old scar that ran vertically from jaw to cheekbone. But it was his eyes that stood out the most; gleaming golden eyes that locked onto Alex as soon as they saw him, following him not with fear or hatred or even suspicion, but with a deep, predatory hunger.

Alex glared back. _This must be the bodyguard Wardes said he'd assign to Henrietta,_ he thought, and for that reason alone he disliked the knight. His presence here was intrusive and unwanted, and Alex had no doubt that Henrietta felt much the same.

"Good afternoon, Alex," Henrietta said, drawing his gaze back to her. "I know last night was hectic, but did everything go well after we returned?"

 _She must be asking about that favor._ "Yeah, everything was fine." Alex jerked his chin over in the knight's direction. "Who's he?"

Henrietta let out a quiet breath. She had been making a pointed effort to pretend that the knight wasn't there, but Alex wasn't so willing to oblige. If he was going to follow them around, Alex at least wanted to know what his name was.

"This is Sir Marrok of the Griffin Knights," Henrietta said. "He will be in charge of my guard detail when we leave for Germania?"

"Germania?" Alex repeated curiously. Then there was a look of dawning realization on his face as one of his newly acquired memories came to the forefront of his mind. "Oh. For your marriage."

"Why, yes." Henrietta looked at him, thoroughly surprised. "Although it was never a secret, I haven't had the time or opportunity to tell you about it yet. How did you know?"

"I heard about it in town," Alex lied. "Guess I should give you my congratulations."

"Thank you," Henrietta said, giving him the sort of smile that caused him to frown in response.

"If there's something about your marriage..." Alex began, before Henrietta suddenly cut him off.

"No," she said almost snappishly. "Forgive me. I do not mean to be rude. But now is not the time to discuss matters of my marriage. Let us leave the topic aside for later."

Alex glanced back at Marrok. _Is there something about her marriage that she doesn't want him to hear?_

"All right," Alex said. "Later, then."

"Will you walk with me?" Henrietta suddenly asked.

Alex nodded, as the princess turned and began walking along the shore, onto the trail that ran around the lake. At first he walked a few steps behind her, but then she slowed her pace down until she was walking with him side-by-side. Alex worried that she was going to try to link arms with him again, but fortunately she refrained from doing so. Perhaps it was because Marrok was keeping a close eye on them from a short distance behind them. If so, then at least he was useful for something.

"It is a fine day today," Henrietta remarked idly.

"Hmm," Alex grunted in response.

"You mentioned before that you were interested in learning more about magic. Are you still interested?"

"Yes." Having consumed and stolen the memories of the two men from town, Alex now had a basic understanding of how magic worked, and what role it played in society. But all that he knew now was from the perspective of two commoners; there was still so much he did not know, and would not without an actual mage.

"In that case, given what you told me of your homeland, I believe it is best if I start from the very beginning," Henrietta said. "Here in Halkeginia, magic refers to the ability to control the four elements of nature: fire, water, earth, and air. Amongst humans, there does exist a fifth element, Void, but as that belonged solely to the Founder Brimir, who died thousands of years ago, in practice there are only four. Every mage is born with a natural inclination towards one of these elements, but more can be used depending on talent and training. We thus divide each mage into one of four ranks, depending on the number of elements that they can place into a single spell: dot, line, triangle, and square."

"So in order to be a square-class mage, you'd have to be able to use all four elements."

"No, not quite." Henrietta smiled. "Pardon. That was a poor explanation on my part. How should I put it... perhaps a demonstration might be easier to understand than an explanation."

From inside a hidden pocket in her dress, Henrietta withdrew a plain, unadorned wand, completely unlike the decorated scepter Alex had seen her use back at the Academy. This one seemed like it was meant for more private or daily use. She pointed it at the lake, made a brief gesture with it, and said, _"Akao."_

Some feet away, the waters swirled and dance, and then fell still.

"This is the most basic water spell," Henrietta explained. "As you can see, it is nothing special. Its primary purpose is to teach students how to move water around – a stepping stone for learning more advanced water spells. Now here is the same spell, but at a line-class. _Akao volao._ "

This time the water churned and spat white foam, forming small riptides and currents as the water followed the abrupt movements that Henrietta traced in the air with her wand, until finally she gave a sharp flick and ended the spell.

"Now here is the spell at a triangle-class. _Akao volao iraam._ "

The water raged and roared.

There was a sound like crashing thunder as a whirlpool that was several dozen feet wide opened up in the middle of the lake like an antlion's pit. Alex touched his cheek when he felt some of the spray land on his face, until at last Henrietta ended this spell as well and put her wand away.

"I get it," Alex said. "You can stack the same element on itself to make the spell stronger." He paused, then added, "Impressive."

"Yes." Henrietta looked pleased. "In truth, it is an exceptionally rare thing for a mage to be able to wield all four elements. To my knowledge, there are only four or five such mages here in Tristain. Most can only wield one or two. Spells of multiple elements do tend to have the advantage of versatility, but those composed of a single element typically have the edge in raw power. Of course, differences do exist depending on the individual power of a mage, and on the specific combination of elements. Water and earth, for example, creates mud, which has relatively few combat applications; fire and earth at the square-class, on the other hand, can create lava, which is notoriously dangerous, even to the caster. But for the most part this rule of thumb holds true."

"How much stronger would you say a square-class mage is compared to you?"

"It's hard to say," Henrietta admitted. "As I said, a mage's strength differs from person to person, just as one's physical strength might differ between individuals. Moreover, the fact that I already have such a large body of water to work with greatly exaggerates my strength."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alex said. "Just give me your best guess." At this point in time, as ignorant as he was, even a rough estimation would be helpful to him in determining what kind of threat these mages could potentially pose. If nothing else, it at least gave him a frame of reference to work with.

Henrietta tapped her chin thoughtfully. "If we were to assume that it is another water mage casting the same spell as me, but at a rank higher, it could be anywhere between... hmm... five to seven times more powerful, perhaps. On drier land, two to three times."

"I see."

"Now, just like with mages, we also divide every spell into different ranks, regardless of their elemental type," Henrietta continued. "Dot, line, triangle, square, those are all the same; but there exists a level above square when it comes to spells. We refer to them as star-class spells.

"It is a technique that was originally developed during humanity's first crusade for the Holy Lands against the elves in an attempt to counter the dreadful power of their brand of magic – _ancient_ magic – which predates humanity's own. By having multiple mages work in tandem, it becomes possible to cast a spell far greater than anything any of them could achieve on their own. To illustrate, a single triangle-class mage can only cast up to a triangle-class spell. But two of them together can cast any spell up to a six-pointed star-class spell, or a six-point spell for short. Two square-class mages could cast anything up to an eight-point spell. And, theoretically, with enough dot-class mages, you could cast any spell above line-class, though in practice this is impossible."

"Why's that?"

"To cast a star-class spell is an incredibly difficult thing," Henrietta explained. "Imagine trying to paint a portrait or sculpt a statue while another person is holding onto the same brush or chisel as you are and is trying to paint their own portrait or sculpt their own statue at the same time. Now imagine trying to do it with two or three or even four other people, while blindfolded and gagged. It takes an incredible amount of coordination, discipline, and finesse to succeed. Even for the most talented group of mages, it might take months or even years for them to accomplish it in any practical setting. That is why the most that is typically ever achieved is a six-point spell. Albion's Knights of the Star and Romania's paladin orders are famed because of their ability to consistently cast seven- and eight-point spells. And, for a time, Tristain's Manticore Knights were just as renowned, during the tenure of Karin the Heavy Wind." Henrietta chuckled. "Her most of all.

"Around twenty years ago, a powerful duke attempted to rebel against the crown. He led an army nearly ten thousand strong, and would have destroyed the country for his actions had it not been for Karin. She led a force of just five hundred knights, and after a week of battle she routed the traitor's entire army, casting three times an unprecedented twelve-point spell. That is how she earned her runic name: the Heavy Wind."

"Oh," Alex grunted. "So what happened to her? Did she die?"

"No, she's alive," Henrietta said. "She retired from service many years later and wed the Duke of Valliere. She's the mother of my friend Louise Francoise."

"Princess," Marrok said from behind them. "We have come quite far. I believe now is a good time for us to return to the palace."

"Have we truly?" Henrietta looked back, only just then realizing how small the palace was in the distance, a picture framed by branches and leaves. "Time certainly does fly. Let us go back."

"You go ahead," Alex said. "I'm going to walk around a little longer."

"As you please," Henrietta nodded. "Come, Sir Marrok. If you would please escort me back to my solar, I'm sure I'll be able to find some other business to take care of."

* * *

In truth, there was actually very little Henrietta had to do back in her solar. Or more accurately, there was little that she was interested in doing at this time. As the day of her marriage drew closer and closer, there were certainly various details of the marriage-alliance she could review, but by and large that matter had already been settled. The only thing left was to finalize some of the more minor details of the arrangement with Emperor Albrecht. Her fiance.

Henrietta sighed and began to pace the room, as she so often did when she was impatient or bored. She looked out the window frequently, where the lake was, wondering if she squinted hard enough she might find Alex still wandering by the shore or between the trees. The familiar's contract allowed her to sense his presence, but right now he was too far for her to feel anything.

"Perhaps I was too subtle," Henrietta pondered aloud. "Did he not understand my message?"

There were many things that Henrietta wanted to discuss with Alex, both large and small, but she wanted her words to be for his ears only. That was why she told him to leave the topic of her marriage aside for later, and why she loudly declared where she was headed as she left; she wanted him to find a way here so that they could talk without having to be chaperoned like a child again.

It still irritated her, what Mazarin and Wardes were doing. _I know that they are merely trying to keep me safe, but can't they see that they're overreacting?_ Henrietta sighed and sat down on the windowsill, which was large enough for her to perch her entire body on. She leaned her head against the glass, watching the sparkling waters outside.

She wondered if there was something she could do to make Alex more trustworthy in the cardinal's eyes. If she could just convince him that Alex wasn't someone he needed to be so wary of, then the viscount would fall in line as well. But as she mulled over this problem, no easy answer came to her.

Time passed, and eventually Henrietta tired of waiting. But as she was getting ready to give up and leave, she felt it.

Alex was near.

To feel the presence of one's familiar was a peculiar sensation. Rather than something physical, it was more like having an inexplicable certainty in one's mind, a conviction as strong as knowing that the sun rose in the east and set in the west. My familiar is this far away. My familiar is over that way. Answers such as these would appear in the mage's mind unbidden, like they had always been there, and the nearer the familiar was the stronger that certainty became.

"Hold." Henrietta heard the muffled voice of one of the mage-knights posted outside her door. "What are you doing here?"

"I was instructed to bring Her Highness cakes, milord," a distinctly female voice said, meekly. "See?"

Henrietta got up from her perch and crossed the room in ten strides. She opened the door.

"Ah, you're here at last," she said to the one who appeared for all the world to be a common maidservant. Henrietta had to try hard to not burst out in laughter. There was such an enormous gap in the image between this timid little girl and the normally quiet, brooding Alex that it was almost comical. "Let her pass, Darvell. I've been waiting quite some time for my cakes."

"Your Highness," the guard frowned. "We were instructed to let no one through, not without the permission of Captain Wardes or Sir Marrok."

"It's only sweetcakes," Henrietta smiled sweetly. "Here, why don't you try some?"

"They do look tempting," Darvell admitted, "but I cannot. The captain would have my hide if he found out I disobeyed orders and ate on duty."

 _By the Founder,_ Henrietta thought exasperatedly. _A knight this young shouldn't be so dutiful. Sir Wardes, never have I thought that the day would come where I would complain about you doing your job too well._

The maid suddenly let out a long, irritated breath. "Okay, now this is just pissing me off."

The knights turned to face her, and blinked.

"Excuse me?" said Darvell.

Without warning, Alex shed his disguise, while at the same time his arms became a tangled net of black and red tendrils. They wrapped around the two guards' legs and body like constricting snakes, and then broke off at the elbows to bind them in place. Before the guards could cry out, Alex had regrown fresh arms and muffled their mouths with his hands.

"Alex!" Henrietta cried out in shock. "What are you doing!?"

He shrugged nonchalantly in response. "They're fine. I haven't hurt them. But I'm getting really sick of having to play around that old man's rules. You wanted to talk, let's talk. These guys aren't going anywhere."

Henrietta bit her lips. "You shouldn't have done that."

"If you want, I can untie them and leave."

Henrietta glanced left and right down the hallway, and then stepped aside. "Hurry and come in."

Before he entered the room, Alex grew extra tendrils from his body and used them to tear off two long strips of cloth, one from each of the knights' uniforms, turning them into makeshift gags. After he was done, he leaned them against the wall.

"Oh, I am in so much trouble," Henrietta said as the door closed behind them. "I can imagine what Mazarin will say when he hears about this."

"Let me worry about him," Alex said. "I'll talk to him for you."

"That," Henrietta said sternly, "sounds like a terrible idea."

Alex shrugged again. "It was just a thought."

"Well, what's done is done," Henrietta sighed. "We should speak of what we must while we have time. The guards won't change for another hour, so we have at least that much time to ourselves."

"Right," Alex nodded. "So is there something wrong with your marriage?"

"Wrong?" Henrietta chuckled humorlessly. "No, Alex, there's nothing wrong with the marriage. Everything about it is right. It's just... undesirable, I suppose."

Alex pursed his lips and crossed his arms in front of him. "Explain."

"First, you must know that whatever I tell you now _cannot_ leave this room," Henrietta warned him. "What I tell you, no one else may know. Can you promise me that?"

Alex nodded.

"I need to hear you say it."

"I promise," Alex said. "I'll keep your secrets."

Henrietta nodded back at him. "You already know that I am set to marry Emperor Albrecht of Germania. Would you also happen to know why?"

"For a military alliance, right?"

"Yes," Henrietta said grimly. "As a foreigner to Halkeginia, you are likely not aware of the current political landscape, but right now is a time of great upheaval. Around a year and a half ago, a rebellion took place in the country of Albion. At first it was just a localized affair, limited to the city of Rosais from which it began. But since then it has grown into a full civil war... and the rebels are winning. They call themselves Reconquista. Their goal is to unite the whole of Halkeginia under their banner and lead a crusade on the Holy Lands, or so they say, and already their fingers stretch across the continent.

"Once they've defeated the last holdouts of the Albion royalists and consolidate their power, it is almost guaranteed that they will invade Tristain next. We are the most vulnerable target on the mainland. In order to prevent that, it was decided that we needed the military backing of either Germania or Gallia. The latter would have been more preferable as an ally, as they are the most powerful country on the continent, but all diplomatic overtures towards their king, Joseph, have met in failure, most likely because they have judged that they have nothing to gain from such an alliance."

"And Germania does?" Alex said. "What does Tristain have to offer that Germania would be willing to potentially go to war with another country?"

Henrietta smiled sadly and brought a hand to her chest. "Me."

Alex arched an eyebrow, and waited for her to continue.

"Germania is a... unique existence in Halkeginia," Henrietta said. "It is not like any of the other nations. You see, long ago, at the dawn of the Brimiric age, there were only four countries: Tristain, Albion, Gallia, and Romania. The first three were founded by Brimir's three sons, while the last was established by his sole disciple. It is thus from Brimir that the royal houses of the four great nations draw their legitimacy.

"Since then, there have been many other kingdoms that have risen and filled in the the gaps of the unclaimed territories of Halkeginia, but all have met with the same fate: they either became a vassal to one of the four great nations, or were conquered and absorbed. Germania alone has defied this fate.

"Originally, Germania was not a single nation as we know it. Instead, it was a collection of forty-one smaller kingdoms populating the eastern frontiers. For a long time they warred amongst themselves, until around three hundred years ago they were forced to band together in order to fend off a Tristainian invasion. King Francis the Aggressor, the ruler of Tristain of the time, had long coveted the vast timber lands, rich mines, and the abundant fur that could be found in their territory and sought to make it his own. He thought that he had seen weakness in their division, but as Mazarin once told me there is nothing like a common foe to bring a divided people together.

"After the war, the forty-one kings decided to remain as a single kingdom to better defend themselves against future threats. But of course, the problem arose of choosing who among them should be their leader. It was a question that nearly destroyed their fragile, fledgling alliance, until they finally decided upon a most peculiar system of government.

"Rather than having the crown pass down through a single royal house, the forty-one kings decided that they would elect who among them would become their leader. The King of Kings. The emperor. When the incumbent ruler dies, the kings would convene again to elect a new leader. Thus was Germania formed, a country ruled by its emperor and the now forty princes.

"You can see why the other nations might look down upon them for this. They are at times disparaged as the Great Outsider, for although their wealth and might rivals that of any other nation, their culture is as if it belongs to another world... though I suppose you would know more about that than I."

"Mmm," Alex grunted as he listened to her intently. "Keep going."

"This 'elective' monarchy, being what it is, breeds political scheming and civil wars like no other. Indeed, Germania has the highest rate of civil conflict in all the world, and the cause is more often than not because the princes look to force their rivals to submit to them and elect them the new emperor when negotiations fail.

"In order to try to put an end to this strife, many past emperors have attempted to establish his family's reign more permanently. Emperor Albrecht is no different from them. But what he and his predecessors all lacked was legitimacy. They all failed because they do not belong to the line of Brimir. And that is what I offer him: My body and my blood. Legitimacy. In return, Tristain will receive all the supplies and manpower it needs to protect itself against Reconquista."

"I take it he's not a nice guy," Alex said dryly.

"Anyone who can force at least twenty-one other princes to bend the knee is perforce not a 'nice guy,' no," Henrietta replied. "He is not the one I long for, but I have no choice. In order to protect my people, I must wed him."

"You have someone else you love?"

"I do," Henrietta admitted, and sighed. "But it doesn't matter. Most like, he's soon to be dead."

Alex paused and considered this. "He's someone from Albion, isn't he?"

"Yes." Henrietta sighed again. "Princes Wales Tudor."

"How do you know him?" Alex asked curiously.

"We met once, many years ago," Henrietta said wistfully. Even now, despite the years that had gone by, she could remember every detail of their first meeting with perfect clarity. "I was seven years of age at the time. My father and mother had taken me to a great ball at Ragdorian Lake, and Prince Wales and his father had come in attendance. The party lasted for three days and three nights, and every day there was dancing and feasting and all manner of sport and pleasure. I danced with Wales on the first day, and before that day had even ended we were in love as only children can."

Henrietta smiled as the nostalgia took her. "Each night I had Louise Francoise pretend to be me in my bed while I slipped out to the lake shore to meet with Prince Wales. We talked about many things then, about what we would do once we ascended to our respective thrones, what we wanted to do, but what we talked about most of all was our great dream of marrying each other once we were of age and uniting our two countries. We even swore a solemn vow with the Spirit of the Lake as witness to love each other until death and beyond." She sighed ruefully. "We were truly children then, and that was merely a child's dream. Neither of us were prepared for the harshness of reality, nor for the weight of the crown."

Alex did not respond. He was silent for several minutes, but Henrietta did not press him. He was deep in thought, perhaps of something she had said, and she wanted to give him time to put his thoughts together.

"You know," he finally began, his words slow and deliberate. "If you want, I could..." and then he trailed off.

Henrietta tried to prompt him to continue. "You could...?"

"No, never mind," Alex replied gruffly. He looked over his shoulder, towards the door. "I should leave before the next round of guards comes."

"Yes, that would be wise," Henrietta said, feeling disappointed inside. She thought that they had been making great strides in their relationship, but did Alex still not trust her, even now? Or was it something about what he had to say that made him stop?

Alex went to the door. His hand reached out for the doorknob, then froze. He seemed to hesitate again, tilting his head, before turning back around and facing her.

"I'm tired of having to try to get around all these guards every time I want to talk to you," he said. "I'd rather not have to."

"I'm aware," Henrietta said. "But Mazarin is insisting, as you well know."

"Fuck him," Alex growled. "I don't care what he thinks. Don't even like the guy. I'm asking you what you think."

"What do I think?" Henrietta frowned. "What do you mean? What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that we should ignore him and Wardes," Alex said. "We'll talk when we want to and do what we want, when we want."

"Ignore his orders," Henrietta echoed. "You mean as you did just a little while ago?" She looked past him, towards the door, and to the knights unseen on the other side.

Alex shrugged. "If that's what it takes."

Henrietta shook her head. "No, I cannot condone violence against my knights."

"I didn't even hurt them," Alex pointed out.

"Even so."

"Then I'll do it non-violently. Less violently. Whatever," Alex said. "But I'm tired of having a guy standing behind me thinking he has a gun pointed at my head for if I take one step out of line. It's really fucking annoying."

"A wand," Henrietta said.

"What?"

"A wand," Henrietta repeated. "Knights don't use guns. They use wands."

Alex gave her a flat stare. She smiled sweetly back at him, and he scowled.

"Truth is, I feel the same way," Henrietta admitted. She could not help but to then add, with a note of accusation in her voice, "Though frankly you haven't left me much choice in the matter anymore. I was originally thinking that we should find some way to prove to Mazarin that you are trustworthy, but after today I do not think that will ever happen."

"Do you really think that someone who suggested I be killed would ever trust me in the first place?"

Henrietta had no answer for that. "You mustn't harm anyone. Ever."

"Without just cause," Alex said. "I already made that promise."

"Then promise me that you won't attack my knights like this again."

Alex arched an eyebrow, but finally nodded. "Fine."

"All right, then," Henrietta said. "Then let's go jump off the roof."

* * *

 _Dearest Mother,_

 _I expect that some days will have passed by the time you have received this letter. I have given the responsibility of the delivery to a local hippogriff courier. If he should successfully accomplish his duty within three days (for reference, I write to you now on the thirty-seventh day of the Season of Water) please give him a generous tip and a kiss on the cheek. The poor boy was ever so eager to please._

 _You are likely already well aware that the Academy of Tristain just held its annual Summoning Festival. I have summoned a marvelous familiar: a salamander. My friend Tabitha, whom I hope to introduce you to in the near future, has done one better, however. She has summoned a wind dragon. I am quite proud of her, though that is a strange feeling as I admittedly had no hand in her upbringing._

 _However, the topic of my familiar is not why I write to you now. I have much greater and more important news to share with you instead. The young princess of Tristain was in attendance at the Festival, and I was able to establish preliminary relations with her. She is as virginal as you would expect from a Tristainian, but she is also kind, relatively tolerant, and open to friendly contact. More importantly, she has expressed her displeasure of her upcoming marriage with our oh-so-glorious emperor._

 _Given that she is to be our future empress, it is in my judgment that our family would benefit greatly by forming a strong bond of friendship with her now. Our family has always held a strong position within the country, but for that reason Albrecht has always kept us at length from the affairs of the imperial court. This will give us the foothold we need to breach upon his territory._

 _But more than that, I'd like for you to be of whatever help you can be for the princess as a favor to me. I fear that the sheltered flower of Tristain is ill-prepared for the harshness of Germania. It would sadden me to see such a young, innocent flower be trampled into the dirt without even knowing why. Please watch over her for me, as I already promised her the courtesy of the Zerbst family. Use what I said above if Father needs convincing._

 _Your loving daughter,_

 _Kirche_

 _P.S. The princess's familiar was most unusual. It is difficult to describe, but it bears keeping a close eye on._

"What is that?"

Joanna looked up from her reading to find her husband, Arduin, looking at her from the doorway. She hadn't even heard him open the door.

"You should knock next time," she said.

"Should a wife have something to hide from her husband?" Arduin said as he approached her. "And, by the way, I did knock. You weren't listening."

"It's from Kirche," Joanna said, folding the letter back up.

"Really?" Arduin's face lit up. "What news?"

"Here." Joanna handed the letter over. "Read it for yourself."

Arduin accepted the parchment and unfolded it. For a few minutes, Joanna watched as his eyes moved from left to right and down, until finally he reached the end.

"It seems our daughter is doing well in Tristain," he said. "I'm glad. I just wish she had sent a letter for me as well."

"She is still rather angry that you tried to force upon her a marriage she did not ask for," Joanna said wryly.

"It was a good match," Arduin said sullenly. "He had wealth and status, and would have taken care of her till the end of her days."

"But there was no passion involved." Joanna shook her head. "For all your years, you still do not understand a woman's heart."

"Has there ever been a man that did?"

Joanna laughed. "Perhaps not. More importantly, what do you think?"

"I think that a woman's heart is like a labyrinth."

"Not that, you great oaf," Joanna rolled her eyes. "I meant Kirche's words. Personally, I'm of mind that we should do as she asks. I see no reason to refuse."

"I must disagree," Arduin said, his grin fading. "There has been troubling news as of late. Dark clouds are on the horizon, and it may be wise to keep our family well away from it."

Joanna arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"There are many who do not look well upon this marriage. They would rather see it destroyed."

"Every prince has always wished to see every emperor's attempts for more power destroyed. What makes this different?"

"Because it is not just words," Arduin said grimly. "I haven't told you yet, but there have been envoys with masters whose names they would not give who have come to see me. They ask for my support in a great future endeavor, whose details they also would not give. There is the smell of blood in the air, my love. What else could this mean?"

"All the more reason why we should keep this young princess safe," Joanna argued. "She'll need an ally now more than ever."

"Do you believe that it is worth it?" Arduin said. "I have long worked to keep our family out of these petty power struggles, for our safety and our continued prosperity. Would you rather that I lead us into the fire of war instead?"

"Since when have we of Zerbst ever feared fire?" Joanna stood up and put a hand Arduin's chest. "There is much we have to gain from this, but if that is not enough to move you, then hear this: If it is a mother's duty to listen to the problems of her daughter, then it is the father's duty to keep her and those she holds dear safe."

"So be it then," Arduin said. "But in that case, I cannot go to the capital. If what I fear comes to pass, then we must be made ready for it. You must go in my stead and guide this princess."

"Of course," Joanna said and leaned down to kiss him. At her full height, she stood nearly four inches taller than her husband, but he, unlike most men, did not care about that. "I love you," she said when their lips finally parted.

"As do I," Arduin replied. "Be safe, love. And should things take a turn for the worse, come back to me as fast as you can. Nothing is worth losing you."

* * *

Somewhere in the royal palace of Tristania, Mazarin sat at his desk in his solar. He was reviewing the proposed numbers of the Germanian force that was to be garrisoned at a still undecided location in Tristain when he thought he heard a scream. He paused in his work and tried to listen more carefully, but he heard nothing.

 _You're getting old, Mazarin,_ he thought to himself with a sigh. _I suppose I should be glad my hearing is the first to go and not my sight._

But as he continued his work, he suddenly heard the screaming again. And then the door to his solar slammed open, and his personal assistant, Darry, ran into the room, his sandy blond hair stuck to his sweaty brow. He wheezed heavily as Mazarin rose to his feet.

"Darry? What's wrong?" he said. "What happened?"

"T-the princess..." Darry gasped. "The princess... she... she..."

 _Oh, dear._ Mazarin braced himself. He could tell that what Darry was about to say couldn't be anything good. Most like it would have something to do with that damnable familiar of hers.

"She's jumping off the roof of the palace with her familiar!"

Mazarin blinked at him. Then slowly he sat back down and put a hand over his eyes, and he muttered with a long suffering groan:

"Brimir's balls."


	11. Germania: Part 1

**Chapter 11**

On the easternmost edge of Tristain was the border town of Aubergine. It was an old town with a history that spanned nearly as long as Tristania itself, but it had never been as rich or storied until only a few centuries ago, when it became the front line in the wars between Tristain and Germania. Over the years, the town passed back and forth between the two countries as territories were gained, lost, then gained again, with each side shoring up its defenses a little more than the last, until finally it settled back into the hands of its original founders as a walled city with defenses nearly as impressive as the capital.

But where war had devastated the countryside, in the years of peace, the presence of Germania made Aubergine wealthy and powerful. For the same reason it made the ideal military outpost, so too did it make the perfect trading town between the two countries. Merchants passed through here on a near monthly basis, bringing in the furs, steel, and precious metals of the east and leaving with the silks, books, and enchanted tools of the west. This was why it remained staunchly as royal demesne; it was too profitable to give to anyone else.

Although Tristain was a small country, it still took Henrietta's procession days to reach this border town. She wondered where Alex was right now. When he was with them, he would ride in the carriage with her and Mazarin, much to the latter's annoyance. The cardinal never said anything, and perhaps that was for the best. The look that Alex gave him the first time he opened the door and sat across from him made it clear that he was daring the older man to try to stop him. But sitting still for long seemed to ill suit her familiar. About an hour into the ride, he opened the door again and jumped out, saying that he was "going hunting" when asked.

He did not return for an hour. When he did and climbed back into the carriage, Henrietta noticed that it seemed to creak suspiciously more than before. This happened a number of times again on just the first day alone, the creak getting louder and louder every time until after his last return from the hunt he stopped trying to ride in the carriage altogether.

Now he had been gone for nearly three hours, and their procession was nearing the town, a force consisting of six hundred knights, two hundred from each branch of the royal knight orders. She could hear the sound of the bell tower ringing from behind the walls to signal their arrival, and the townspeople were gathering to greet them behind the wide open gates. The majority of the knights stayed outside of the walls to set up camp, while a smaller force, mostly consisting of the officers and veteran knights, escorted her into the city. When they entered, flower petals were thrown into the air in such numbers that it made Henrietta think of a snowstorm. She rolled her eyes at the display and wondered whose idea this stunt was. _Flowers for the Flower of Tristain. How original._

"Your Highness," the town magistrate said amidst the loud cheers as Henrietta slid down the window of her carriage. "We welcome you to Aubergine."

"And I thank you for it," Henrietta said pleasantly. "This warm welcome by you and the good people of Aubergine has refreshed me after a long ride." She held out a hand, letting the magistrate kiss it.

"The honor is ours," the magistrate said. "Please, come this way. We've prepared a feast for you and your men to enjoy."

"That sounds lovely." Henrietta glanced back towards the closing gates and frowned as she lightly touched her chest. _Still nothing? Where have you gone, Alex?_

"Your Highness?" the magistrate said. "Is something the matter?"

"No, it's nothing," she answered.

Henrietta followed the magistrate back to his mansion, which doubled as his office, at the far southern end of town. Inside, a luxurious dining hall blending the Tristanian and Germanian styles had been fully set with tables and food and bards to provide atmosphere. Henrietta was given the seat of honor at the very head of the room, with the magistrate to her left and Mazarin to her right.

After giving grace, they began to feast. The magistrate would often lean over and ask if all was to her liking and if there was anything else he could have fetched for her: more food, more wine, more bards, etc. At a point his obsequiousness started to get on Henrietta's nerves, which was why she was very glad when the door to the dining hall was pushed open, and the voices of protesting servants came through the widening crack.

"Sir! _Sir!_ You cannot go in there!"

Beside her, Mazarin scowled. Alex had finally returned, shrugging off a pair of servants who attempted to physically wrestle him back with ease. He kept walking forward, down the aisle, ignoring the stares of the knights, until he stopped in front of the dais. He stared up at them. No, at her. He ignored the others.

"I'm back," he said simply.

"Welcome back," Henrietta smiled and put up one hand to wave away the servants who continued to try to pull Alex away. "You were gone for a while. Did you manage to catch anything?"

"Too many," Alex replied. "Found a tribe of orcs living in the forest, so I killed them."

"Pardon," the magistrate interrupted. "Are you telling me that you've exterminated the orcs? All of them?"

"Yeah. That a problem?"

"To the contrary," the magistrate beamed. "You've done Aubergine an enormous favor. They've been making themselves a great nuisance as of late by preying on the merchants that pass through the road between here and Tristania. I've been having mercenaries cull their numbers, but they've hidden themselves too well and breed too fast." He turned to Henrietta. "Your Highness, you seem to be acquainted with this man. Who is he?"

Henrietta smiled, pleased by the magistrate's praise. "He is my familiar, Alex Mercer."

"Your familiar?" The magistrate blinked, then frowned thoughtfully. "Strange. He looks nothing like the stories I've heard."

"Proof that they are more fiction than fact," Henrietta remarked, giving Mazarin a sidelong yet pointed glance. "Pay no heed to them."

"As you say, Your Highness." The magistrate faced Alex. "Good familiar, for your services to Aubergine, I would give you a reward. Is there anything you want that is within my power to grant?"

"No."

"No, there is nothing you want or no what you want isn't within my power to grant?"

"I don't want anything."

"What about gold?"

"He lives with me," Henrietta laughed. "If he needs gold to buy something, I can buy it for him."

"Even so, it is shameful to not reward good service."

"Don't worry about it," Alex said. "I didn't do it for you or the town. I did it 'cause I wanted to."

"If that's how you feel," the magistrate said, frowning.

"By the by," Henrietta said. "If you could have a room prepared for Alex, I would be most appreciative of that."

"At once." The magistrate beckoned over a servant and whispered into her ear. She bowed and left the dining hall.

"Alex," Henrietta said. "Will you sit and join us?"

"Pass," Alex waved a hand dismissively. "I'll be outside."

For an hour more they continued to feast, the knights laughing and reveling with the good, rich food and music. But soon, trained though they were, the effects of the long ride were beginning to show. More than a few of them began to nod off where they sat, and the feast was declared over soon after. Most of the knights headed back to the camp to rejoin the others and rest for the night. Only thirty remained to continue serving as Henrietta's guards.

"Your Highness," the magistrate said. "Allow me to show you to your room."

"If you could send for a servant to do so, that will suffice," Henrietta said. "I'd like to go see to Alex first."

"As you command, Your Highness."

Henrietta found Alex sitting on the porch, staring up at the evening sky. She watched him from the doorway for a moment, wondering what he was thinking. His face betrayed no emotion, a completely neutral mask that one might have been forgiven for thinking was boredom, if not for the intense concentration in his eyes. She glanced behind her and silently waved away the magistrate, her guards, and Mazarin, who said nothing. Ever since that day Henrietta put her foot down and told him that she would no longer tolerate being a prisoner to his overbearing paranoia in regards to Alex, he refrained from speaking of the subject. Sir Marrok and the other knights assigned to her still followed her, but no longer was it to "protect" her from Alex.

Henrietta followed Alex's gaze upwards, wondering what it was that captivated him so. The stars at this time of night were always lovely, like little diamonds scattered upon a sheet of black velvet, but he wasn't the type to appreciate such beauty. Rather than the stars, what he was staring at were the twin moons.

An inexplicable urge seized her then. She walked forward silently, and when she was only inches away from Alex's back, she reached down and poked him in the back of the head with her finger. He grunted, and Henrietta giggled, and she prodded him again.

"What?" he finally said.

"Nothing," Henrietta smiled as she sat down beside him and joined him in watching the moonlit sky. "I just felt like doing it."

Alex growled wordlessly.

"It's a pleasant evening, is it not?" Henrietta commented. "I always love seeing the full moons, though I suspect you are watching them for another reason."

"Not really. It's just weird seeing two moons in the sky."

"Does your world not have two?"

"No. Just one."

"How truly bizarre," Henrietta frowned. She could not imagine a world with only a single moon. It was said that the ocean's tides was dependent on the movement of the moons, so what happened when there was only one?

Alex snorted and gave her a look that said he was thinking something similar.

"Speaking of which, I'd like to ask you something," Henrietta said.

"Hm?"

"Does your world have any orcs?"

"No. Not in real life, anyway."

"Oh." Henrietta frowned. "Well, if that's true, then how did you know what the monsters you hunted were? I've never told you about them, and I can't see how you might have heard about them elsewhere."

Alex paused and frowned for a moment. "There's a lot of different depictions of orcs in fantasy stories in my world," he explained at last. "The ones I killed here kind of resembled a few of them, so I guessed that's what they were."

"I see," Henrietta nodded. "You didn't hurt yourself, did you? Orcs are a most brutish species. What they lack in intellect, they make up for in raw savagery and brute strength."

"They were big, fat, and slow," Alex snorted. "I'm used to a lot more than them."

"Perhaps we ought to get you into the monster extermination business," Henrietta teased lightly. "We could make a lot of money from your work."

"Don't need any money."

"Yes, you've made that quite clear," Henrietta laughed. "It was only a thought." There was a silence then, as Henrietta let her chuckles die into the cool air. She did not speak again for nearly ten minutes. "Well, I should go to sleep. We must leave early in the morn. What will you do?"

"Go to my room and wait, I guess."

"Is there anything that I can have brought for you to help pass the time?"

"I'm fine. I'll just lie down and relax for a while."

"Very well, then," Henrietta nodded. "Good night, Alex."

"Yeah. You too."

Henrietta left Alex and went back inside. He chose to stay on the porch for a while longer. She followed the servant that was waiting for her inside by the door (the poor girl had almost dozed off where she stood. _Oops._ ) upstairs to her provided chambers. Once inside, she stripped off her dress, changed into her night shifts, splashed some of the water in the basin by the door on her face, dried off, and then lied down to sleep.

Sleep came easily to her that night; her dreams, less so. In her dream, she was seven again, and she was waiting for her beloved Prince Wales by Ragdorian Lake. It was night out, and the moons were full and bright, shining in a cloudless sky. She glanced over her shoulder fervently, into an endless dark expanse that she somehow knew was both a forest and the unimagined ends of her dreamworld.

She was feeling fear. She was afraid that someone would find her out here and bring her back inside to the mansion by the lake, which had transformed into a tall, twisting spire, bent and protruding with spikes all over its surface. Hours passed, yet only seconds passed, and just as Henrietta turned to leave, she knew there was someone behind her with the certainty only a dreamer could know.

She turned. To her great delight, Prince Wales had come. He was not the child she remembered from her youth, but as she had last seen him, a man grown, resplendent in glory and courtesy. And then she too was her grown self, and too again she was a child. He held out his hand, and she reached up, reached forward, to take it in hers.

His mouth opened and moved. No words came out as he began to lead her away, but she knew what he was saying anyway, and she could only laugh and cry out in delight.

They plunged into that blackness, light coming from both of them to illuminate their way. Somewhere in that endless dark they threw aside their crowns, it clattering loudly on and on and on until it became dim and quiet and silent as they pressed onward. Then the darkness faded away, and they were in a glade surrounded by tall pine trees. Birds chirped a soft soundless song somewhere from the branches. Wales gently pulled her to the small wooden cabin standing at the center of the glade. He opened the door, and they went in. He pulled her close and kissed her, long and sweet and full of love.

And she was happy.

That moment seemed to stretch on forever, and Henrietta was content to let it stay that way. But then Prince Wales's mouth became rough and tasted of oil and leather. She tried to bear with it, but the taste of it was too strong, and finally she tried to recoil away from him, but he seized her and brought her closer again.

When Henrietta's eyes snapped open, she found the eyes of an unfamiliar man staring back down at her.

" _Mmmph!"_ she tried to scream, only to find that her mouth had been muffled by the man's gloved hand. Her right hand scrabbled around her nightstand, seeking her wand, but the man grabbed her by the wrist and pinned her down. Her body now pumping with adrenaline and her eyes accustomed to the darkness, Henrietta became aware that her assailant was not alone. There were three others with him, painting darker shadows in the dark room. One pulled out a knife from his belt and stepped over to her, and her eyes widened. _"Mmmph! Mmmmph!"_ Panic seized her. She flailed around wildly, trying to push the man off her. From outside in the hallway, someone knocked on the door.

"Princess?" the knight on duty said. "Are you all right?"

The man on top of her glanced briefly at the door. Without thinking, without even recognizing it as an opportunity, Henrietta struck. She jammed her thumb into the man's eye, and he grunted and pulled back away from her.

" _HELP!"_ Henrietta screamed at the top of her lungs.

Smooth as cats, two of the assailants pulled away from her bed and positioned themselves by the door. When it slammed open and the knights came rushing in, they each seized one and slit their throats in a single deft movement.

Henrietta ran for the only way out: the window. It was already opened, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Henrietta realized that this was how these assassins had entered her room. But before she could get very far, the last assassin had interposed himself between her and her escape. She retreated a step, backing into the man whose eye she had gouged before. He was still holding one hand over that eye, but even so Henrietta could see that he was most wroth. He seized her with his free hand and roughly threw her to the ground. She cried out. One foot slammed down on her side, and she felt a rib break, causing tears to squeeze out of her eyes, and the air in her lungs to escape through her mouth.

"Hurry up," one assassin said to the one looming over her. "We don't have much time left."

"I know." He crouched down and planted his knee where his foot had been, eliciting fresh pain. He seized Henrietta by the hair and pulled hard, revealing her pale throat. His knife came closer. Henrietta whispered, with tears in her eyes, _"Please, don't."_

And then the entire left wall exploded into a thousand splinters as Alex came crashing through.

His actions were frighteningly swift, as if he didn't need to think, as if he had already planned out what he was going to do. As soon as he burst into the room, he leaped forward and grabbed the assassin on Henrietta and pulled him, and his knife, away from her. With a single arm, Alex threw the assassin across the room with such force that he broke through the opposite wall, and the wall past that. Even without being able to see his body, Henrietta knew that the man had died on impact.

"You bastards," Alex snarled. "You fucking bastards. _I'll kill you!_ "

The fight was as short as it was brutal.

The assassin by the window was Alex's next target, as he was within arm's reach. Alex grabbed him by the wrist and jerked him closer. Then he wrapped one hand around the crown of the man's skull, his fingers lengthening into long claws to properly grip the head, while the other dug in deep into the man's collarbone. The assassin screamed as Alex ripped his head off in a shower of blood and gore, splashing Henrietta with it from where she lay on the ground, her eyes wide and afraid.

The third assassin was in a similar state of emotion as her, yet he took a fighting stance with two knives in his hands. But he could not have predicted Alex's next action then, for instead of trying to close the gap between them, Alex transformed his other arm into a long bladed tentacle, tipped at the end with two barbed, foot-long spikes. This deadly organic whip flew across the room in less than a second, punching a hole straight through the assassin's belly, who looked down in slow, horrified wonder. A twitch of his arm sent an undulating wave along the bladed length, bisecting the assassin at the waist, and he saw no more.

The last assassin tried to run. That was sensible of him. The window was guarded by Alex, so he could not escape through there. Instead, he tried to leave through the hallway, only to be stopped by the knights and the household guards who had come rushing to the scene.

"Surrender, now," Sir Marrok commanded as he and a dozen other knights pointed their sword-wands at him.

The assassin looked around, saw that he was surrounded, looked back in the room, saw Alex approaching, and hastily threw down his weapons and raised his hands in the air. But when a knight stepped forward to take him into custody, Alex roughly pushed him aside and grabbed the assassin by the collar, lifting him a foot into the air.

"Familiar!" Mazarin cried out. Henrietta stood up with teetering steps, holding one hand where her ribs were broken and throbbing. The cardinal had come with the knights to see what was going on. "Let him go. We need him alive for questioning."

"Shut up!" Alex snarled and threw the assassin on the ground, before mounting him and bringing his fists down repeatedly on the man's face. In an instant, he had painted the floor crimson, and wet red strings were attaching themselves from the man's face to Alex's fist and torso. These strings became thicker, and then pulled _in_ the man's entire body into Alex's own. Almost immediately after, Alex's bloodstained hands wrapped around his head and he cried out in anguish, his head and hands rolling this way and that, his eyes squeezed shut, as though he was suffering from a most debilitating migraine. And then seconds later, just as quickly as it happened, he stopped. He stood up, his expression murderous. "Ingemar," he growled.

Without another word, Alex turned abruptly back into Henrietta's room. Some of the knights behind him seemed to move to stop him, but then hesitated and stopped before they could. Alex walked past Henrietta, towards the open window.

"Alex," Henrietta whispered as he put one foot on the windowsill to jump out. "What did you do?"

He stopped and looked at her. The fiery anger that had consumed him mere seconds ago had burnt away, leaving only a cold rage in its wake.

"I'm going to find the one who sent these bastards," Alex growled. "And I'm going to kill him."


	12. Germania: Part 2

**Chapter 12**

Once the bodies of the assassins had been cleared and her broken rib healed with nothing but a soreness left as a reminder, Henrietta, Mazarin, and the magistrate convened in the latter's solar, along with Sir Marrok and a few of his knights.

"These assassins," Mazarin began, "what do we know of them?"

"They're Germanian," the magistrate said, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. He was anxious, almost to the point of looking feverish. "We were able to determine that much by the color of their skin and some of their personal effects. Unfortunately, as none of them were alive for questioning, we know nothing else."

Mazarin made a disgruntled noise. "I told that familiar to keep that man alive. I told him so."

Henrietta took a sip of warm honeyed milk, which had been provided for her by the magistrate's servants, to calm her trembling hands. It was cloyingly sweet, but she forced herself to drink it anyway. Her nerves were still shaken from her near death experience, which had not at all been helped by witnessing Alex literally rip her would-be assassins apart and devour one of them alive. She felt something wet trickle down her face. One hand instinctively snapped up to wipe it away, nearly dropping her cup of milk in the process. _Oh._ She sighed in relief. It was just cold sweat. For a moment she had thought it was the blood of the assassin that had splashed on her during the fight, despite having washed it off not long after the incident.

"I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness," the magistrate said pleadingly, bowing his head low to Henrietta. "To have allowed your life to come to risk under my roof is unforgivable."

"It is not your fault. Whoever sent these assassins is to blame." Henrietta took another drink, but no matter how much she drank, her tongue and lips remained as dry as a desert. "You weren't able to find anything else on those men?"

"Alas, I'm afraid not," the magistrate admitted. "They carried nothing that might help us identify them more precisely. I will have my men make rounds come morn. Perhaps they might be able to find someone who knows these wretched assassins."

"That may not be fast enough," Mazarin said with frustration. "Still, for the time being we can at least make some conjectures with what we do know."

"You have an idea of who might be responsible, Cardinal?" Henrietta asked.

"Only conjectures," Mazarin stressed. "Suppose for a moment these assassins succeeded. Who benefits from that?"

"Reconquista," Henrietta answered promptly. It was the obvious answer.

"Yes," Mazarin agreed. "And so they are one suspect. But there are others, too. I can think of at least forty other people who would be loathe to see Emperor Albrecht and his descendants become the rulers of Germania in perpetuity."

"You think one of the Germanian princes sent these men after me?" Henrietta exclaimed, eyes wide.

"I do not know for certain," Mazarin said. "But it is a possibility that cannot be ruled out."

"Well, that's great," Sir Marrok snorted, causing Mazarin to shoot him a look. "Forty-one suspects. That really narrowed it down."

"Sir Marrok is right," Henrietta said. "It's not enough." She looked at the magistrate. "What of Ingemar? Alex said that before he left. Do you know who or what that might be?"

"I'm afraid not, Your Highness. It is certainly not the name of any of the Germanian princes, that much I can say right now. But I will look into it myself and inform you of what I find, I swear to you."

"You have my gratitude," Henrietta said, and with that they retired back to their rooms.

She was given a new room to sleep in for the rest of that night. More knights had been brought over from the camp, tripling the total amount of guards in and around the mansion. They guarded Henrietta at every angle. She was safe now. She knew that. Yet even so sleep did not come for her again that night. For every breeze that shook the leaves and branches, there was another assassin waiting to slit her throat. For every owl's hoot, a signal to trespass upon her space.

Henrietta curled underneath her blanket and squeezed her eyes shut.

She had never seen Alex so terrible before. He had been so full of rage that it was like he was blind to all else. Seeing him like this frightened Henrietta. She could almost still hear the sickening squelching noise he had made as he consumed the assassin's body. The sound alone was the stuff of nightmares, and seeing it happen right before her very eyes made it all the worse.

But it was not the sight of Alex murder and devouring those men that troubled her now; it was waking up to find a knife at her throat that disturbed her the most. Her hand crept up and wrapped around where the blade had come so close to delivering its steel kiss, opening her up ear to ear as her lifeblood poured out and she...

Henrietta coughed as she relaxed her hand. Without thinking, she had started choking herself.

 _Where have you gone, Alex?_ She wished that her familiar was still here with her. He had been dreadful to behold, for sure. All that fury, all that anger, yet both had been born out of concern for her life. It was disconcerting to have witnessed what he did, but reassuring to see the lengths he would go to keep her safe. She did not like that he was gone.

"I am the princess of Tristain, and this is not enough to scare me," Henrietta whispered to herself, trying to force false courage into truth, as a skilled mage might transmute ordinary rock into gold. She chewed on her thumbnail subconsciously. "I am the princess of Tristain. I am the princess of Tristain. I am the princess of Tristain. I am not afraid."

She wondered how Prince Wales dealt with moments like these, for surely he lived a life fraught with moments like these. More so, in fact. She faced assassins aiming for her life but once; he had been facing down an entire army of those who wanted him dead for over a year. Were there nights where he also hid under his bed sheets and cowered like so? Did he ever try to find courage, true or otherwise, wherever it could be found, like so?

Probably not.

The Prince of Albion was the bravest man she had ever known. Something like this was not enough to shake the likes of him.

"I want to see you, Wales," she said, so quietly that she could scarce hear it herself. Except in front of Alex, it was not something she had said aloud ever since her engagement to Emperor Albrecht had been made. It was not something she ought to say at all. The faintest rumor, the slightest hint that there was another that she loved, and the marriage-alliance could fall apart in the emperor's jealous spite.

That night was the longest of Henrietta's life.

When morning came, they left quickly. They did not even stay for breakfast, as Sir Marrok insisted that they stay on the move, lest the assassins come for her again. The magistrate apologized again as they left through the eastern gate, and promised to send word with whatever he found out.

Henrietta leaned her head against the window of her carriage, staring distantly outside. It was a dry day. Their procession left a cloud of dust in their wake. Her eyes drooped heavily, snapped open every time her carriage jolted over a bump or an uneven patch of ground, then drooped again.

"Are you feeling all right, Your Highness?" Mazarin asked her. "You look unwell."

"I'm fine," Henrietta replied tersely.

"I could have a potion brought for you."

"I said I'm fine," Henrietta snapped. Gods, she wished that he would just be quiet. "I'm tired, is all."

"As you say, Your Highness."

They rode at a steady pace for hours, stopping only once around midday to give the men and horses a chance to rest and eat. Henrietta stayed in her carriage alone, too tired to move. She ate a little and slept a little, and fitfully at that. The assassins' ghosts haunted her dreams, and she could not bear them for long. When she awoke, there was only one word that echoed in her mind.

 _Ingemar._

What was that? What did that mean? Who was it? These questions clung to her thoughts like a stubborn fly buzzing in her ears. It was coming close to driving her mad. _Ingemar. Ingemar._ Why did Alex say that? And more importantly, where was he now? He said that he had gone to kill the one who had sent the assassins, but how could he know who that person was? It was foolishness to leave without a single clue. And yet he did leave, and with such conviction at that. Was it possible that he knew something? But if so, why didn't he tell her?

Perhaps she had been too hasty in dismissing Mazarin's offer for a potion. She could do with a dreamless sleep for a while. She said as much when the cardinal returned. When her retinue began to move again, Henrietta was alone in a world of a sweet, blessed blackness.

Henrietta did not know for how long they rode before she woke again, lying stretched out on her seat with a blanket draped over her and a pillow under her head. Mazarin was reading a book in silence when she opened her eyes, and the bright, warm rays of the sun, which she could see through the window, told her it was late in the afternoon. She felt refreshed now, ready to face what remained of the day.

"Where are we?" Henrietta yawned as she stood up and rubbed her eyes.

"By now we've crossed the border, and we are in the principality of Anhalt," Mazarin answered. "How do you feel, Your Highness?"

"I feel good." Henrietta smiled. "Better. Thank you for bringing me that potion."

Mazarin smiled back at her and nodded. "The next time you see someone of the Montmorency family, you can now honestly say that one of their draughts helped you in a time of need."

Henrietta laughed.

"Banners ahead!" a knight from the head of their procession called out, and the words were passed down the length of the line by more voices.

The entire royal retinue came to a stop. A layer of dust began to swirl up from the ground and around Henrietta's carriage in a dome shape, carried by currents of wind. A barrier had been set up to guard against projectile attack. The ground underneath them had likewise been hardened to prevent any would-be mage-assassin from tunneling their way through.

Henrietta stuck her head out the window to see what was going on. ("Princess!" Mazarin exclaimed in shock. "Please come back inside.") A large contingent of soldiers armed with swords and muskets and pikes were waiting for them up ahead. It didn't appear to be a blockade, as there were no fortifications. Instead, they were waiting for them, beating drums and playing lutes and song. At their head was a woman riding a hand-drawn chariot. Just by seeing her vibrant red hair, her bronze skin, and her stunning beauty, Henrietta had a clear idea of who she was. But if that wasn't enough, then the flags her standard-bearers carried gave it away. They bore the sigil of a naked woman walking amidst burning trees.

It was the symbol of the Zerbst family.

Henrietta ordered her knights to stand down, though to remain on guard, and got out of the carriage, while the woman in the chariot stood up and walked towards her, accompanied by only a handful of her own men. The knights warily gave way for her, and when the red-haired woman stood before Henrietta, she said, "Welcome, my lady. Might you be the Princess Henrietta?"

"I am," Henrietta answered. "Who is it that I speak to?"

"I am Joanna von Zerbst, wife to the Prince of Anhalt," the woman smiled as she bowed deeply in obeisance. "I welcome you to our province. I'm to understand that you've already met our daughter."

"Kirche. Yes, we have," Henrietta said. "I had the pleasure of making her acquaintance during the summoning festival. If I may, my lady, might I ask what you are doing here?"

"Not long ago, our daughter sent us a letter. In it she spoke much and well of you, which has made my lord husband and I eager to meet you for ourselves. When we learned that you were due for Vindobona to celebrate the engagement with His Imperial Majesty, we knew you would have to pass through our territory. And so I have come to escort you to the capital. Of course, to celebrate this occasion, we have brought you gifts, if you will take them."

"You honor me greatly, though I fear I am not so deserving of your generosity."

"Your modesty does you more honor than I ever could," Lady Joanna said. "Will you and your men take a brief respite with us so that we might talk more comfortably over there in the shade?"

Henrietta frowned and glanced back at Mazarin. He nodded once at her, a curious expression decorating his face.

"That sounds lovely," Henrietta said. "Please, lead the way."

A blanket had been spread out on the grass underneath a large apple tree, with a low table on top. The two of them sat down on either side, while Mazarin, Sir Marrok, and a few knights watched them from a short distance away.

"Allow me to pour you a drink." Lady Joanna tipped a jug of fine wine over two silver goblets, while one of her attendants did the same for Mazarin and the rest.

Henrietta accepted the wine, but did not drink it. Instead, she looked at the rich violet liquid suspiciously, swirling it around slowly in her cup. Then she looked up at Lady Joanna, who was watching her expectantly, and said, "You first."

Lady Joanna frowned, clearly displeased by her rudeness, but tilted her head back and drank deeply nonetheless. Seeing this, Henrietta sighed in relief and drank as well.

"Forgive me," she said. "I've recently had a hard experience, which has led me to being overly cautious of even those whom I would call friends."

"A hard experience?" Lady Joanna cocked her head. "What do you mean by that, Your Highness?"

"Last night, as I slept, a group of assassins invaded the mansion I was in and nearly took my life," Henrietta confessed. "If not for my familiar, I would be dead. As we do not know who sent those men after me, I feared that this might be yet another plot. I apologize for suspecting you."

"You need not apologize, Your Highness," Lady Joanna said. "That was wise, though this is troubling news to hear. I had not thought that they would move so quickly."

"You know who is responsible?" Henrietta leaned in eagerly. "What can you tell me?"

"Little and less, I'm afraid," Lady Joanna admitted. "Some time ago, my lord husband was invited anonymously to take part in some nefarious plot against the imperial crown. He declined, of course. Who could possibly trust a group of traitors too cowardly to even show their faces? But ever since we've known that there is danger brewing. In truth, a large part of the reason why I am here is because my daughter asked us to help keep you safe during your time in Germania, though I doubt she knew that there would be a conspiracy against you and the emperor."

"She did this?" Henrietta's eyebrows went up. "I must admit, I'm rather surprised. She promised me her support when she came into her titles, but I assumed they were merely kind words."

"She thinks of you as a friend, and a Zerbst never turns her back on her friends."

"I hope I prove worthy of such loyalty," Henrietta smiled.

"Oh, I'm certain that you will," Lady Joanna smiled back. "But about these assassins, have you any other clues that you might share with me?"

"Only one," Henrietta said. "My familiar... before he killed the last one, the assassin said something. 'Ingemar.' Have you any idea what that might mean?"

"I do," Lady Joanna said, and Henrietta felt something inside her jump. "Ingemar is one of the nobles of gold."

"Nobles of gold?" Henrietta repeated, perplexed.

"It is a Germanian term. As a Tristanian, you are likely not familiar with it," Lady Joanna explained, gesturing absently with one hand in front of her. "Nobles are necessary for the smooth administration of any country, as you well know, and in every other country the aristocracy is composed of the descendants of Brimir. But we are a new nation, and thus we are lacking in mages compared to the rest of Halkeginia. To compensate for this, we allow those you would refer to as commoners to rise into nobility by merit or, far more commonly, by purchasing their lands and titles. Hence why they are referred to as the nobles of _gold,_ to differentiate them from nobles of the wand. Ingemar is a rich merchant lord who only recently bought his title some three or four years ago, if I recall correctly. Though it is strange to think that he might be connected to this case."

"Why is that?"

"I know Ingemar," Joanna said. "We have done business before. And from all my dealings with him, he gave me a most powerful impression that he was not the type of man who takes great risks, no matter how much he stands to gain from it. If I may be so frank, I always thought of him like a tortoise because of it, slowly and steadily plodding his way through life. So to order the murder of not just the princess, but the future queen and empress of two countries... well, it's not like him."

"But if that's true, then why would A... the assassin say his name?" Henrietta asked. _And how did Alex even learn of his name in the first place?_

"I do not know," Joanna admitted. "But in all likelihood, someone else is behind this plot. The same people who attempted to beguile my husband, no doubt. I fear that Ingemar was merely the unfortunate fool who served as their middleman, and that this is only the beginning."

* * *

The sound of wood exploding and human screams filled the mansion as Ingemar and those that remained of his guards ran down the hallway towards the dining hall. As soon as they were in, the doors were barred shut, and his men lined up at the far end of the room, aiming their muskets at the doors. Their barrels trembled. Every man's hands were quivering from fear. Ingemar did not blame them. He too shied further away from the entrance, hiding behind the sole mage-knight under his employ.

Outside the hall, the screams faded away, and what was left was an utter, eerie silence, broken only by the survivors' shallow breaths. Ingemar was without magic, but he could still tell what was going on in each man's mind, because he was thinking the exact same thing: _What is that thing that has come after us?_

It was not even ten minutes ago that all had been normal. Ingemar had been going over his ledger to review some of his recent transactions, while his guards were stationed at their usual post and his servants went about their business. But that changed when his guards at the gate hailed someone's approach. It changed very quickly, indeed.

Ingemar's solar was situated at the front of his mansion, so he could see most of his estate through his window. He saw a man in a strange black leather coat and grey cowl walk purposefully towards his guards, saw his hands become tremendous claws, and without warning eviscerate those men.

The alarm was raised quickly. More and more guards streamed out of the mansion to slay the monster, bearing swords, bearing spears, bearing guns, and they were slaughtered like so much cloth.

His knight came into his solar then, along with a small contingent of guards, to evacuate him to somewhere safe.

Unfortunately, they were already trapped. His mage-knight was a powerful triangle-class mage, but of the fire element. He could not levitate them out of some window to safety. Any escape would have to be by foot or by horse, and that would perforce lead them down to the first floor and straight into the monster.

So instead they drew the line here, where they could at least be certain of which direction the monster would come from, and concentrate their efforts there.

There was silence. Breaths. And then the sound of footsteps, each one falling as loud as thunder. It stopped, just in front of the door. No one moved. No one breathed. And then they all screamed and shouted and opened fire with their muskets as a fist clad in black chitin exploded through the door, sending splinters flying every which way. The bullets flew, and sent more splinters into the air, but the monster seemed to pay them no mind as a second fist broke through the door in much the same way as the first.

Armored fingers dug into the wood, and the door was easily torn from its hinges and tossed aside like trash. The monster entered the room then, his entire body covered in that same unearthly black chitin as his arms, his face a smooth, faceless mask that nevertheless stared straight at the lord of the manor.

" _Ingemar,"_ it said in a low, guttural growl.

They all shrank back further, save for the knight. He stepped forward with his wand and cast a spell at the beast.

Heat swept over them all like the blazing desert sun as fire flared out across the entire other half of the room. The mage-knight was leaving nothing to chance, and gave the monster no room to escape.

It was a pointless effort, however. The monster did not attempt to escape. He did not even flinch. He strode forward, wading through it as if he was only waist-deep in water. The mage-knight grunted, sweat pouring down his brow in rivulets, both from the heat of his own spell and the strain of casting it. He poured even more willpower into the flames, narrowing the scope of the stream of fire and intensifying it.

If the monster felt pain or even just discomfort, he showed no signs of it. He pressed on through the flames, walking faster and faster as the mage retreated more and more, until at last he had caught up and seized the wand with one hand, snapping it in two, and wrapped one reddened hand around the mage's face.

The mage screamed as his face burned. When the monster released him, Ingemar saw a blackened handprint covering the mage like a wicked tattoo, just before the monster threw him down and smashed his head with his foot. Blood and brain and bone splattered in all directions. Tendrils from his leg attached to what remained of the body and absorbed it entirely.

"By the Founder," Ingemar whispered. He felt a growing warm wetness between his legs.

It was at this moment that his guards all threw down their arms and ran, circling wide around the monster to get out the way he came. They weren't spared even a glance; the monster's eyes were trained solely on Ingemar.

"Ingemar," the creature said again. The chitinous armor was sinking back underneath the monster's skin, and seemingly normal flesh and clothes rising to take their place.

"Stay away from me!" Ingemar cried out, flinging a discarded musket at the monster. It spun in a wide circle, and bounced harmlessly off the creature's chest. "Who are you? _What_ are you? What do you want from me?"

"You sent those assassins after Henrietta," the monster snarled, his face suddenly inches away from Ingemar's own. The merchant lord stumbled backwards, tripped, and fell, quailing under the monster's merciless glare. "I'm here to put an end to that."

"T-the princess of Tristain?" Ingemar licked his lips. "That's what this is about?" Suddenly, he recalled something. A rumor he had heard not long ago. His eyes went wide. "You... you're the princess's familiar."

"My name is Alex Mercer." With one hand, he reached down and lifted Ingemar bodily into the air by the neck. "You hired those assassins. Why?"

"I was... told to," Ingemar choked.

"By whom?"

"I don't... know... his name..." Ingemar gasped. "Please... can't breathe..."

Alex snarled and threw the merchant back down and began to circle him. Ingemar felt much like a rabbit trapped by a hungry lion.

"I swear by the Founder and all the gods," Ingemar babbled as soon as he regained his breath, "it wasn't by my choice. I bear no ill will towards the princess, you must understand. But they said they'll kill my family and I if I don't do as they command. Please. I only wanted to protect my family."

Alex stopped moving in front of Ingemar. Then he looked up, down, left, right, in all directions as though he was searching for something. Then he glared back at Ingemar, murder in his eyes, and hissed, "Liar. There's no one left in this fucking place."

"When they threatened my family, I sent them as far away as I could," Ingemar said hastily. "In case things did not go as planned, I wanted them to be safe."

"Then you should have gone with them, instead of hiring those assassins."

"This is my home," Ingemar pleaded. "Everything I've ever worked for, everything I built, it's all right here. How could I simply abandon it?"

It was the wrong answer. Alex's eyes turned even colder and harder than before.

"You want to keep the people you care about safe and to protect your way of life, even if that means killing someone else. That's fair," he said with a chilling serenity. He crouched down in front of Ingemar so that they were eye-to-eye. "So what about me? You tried to kill someone important to me. You nearly destroyed everything we've built here. What do you think I should do to keep them safe?"

 _I'm going to die,_ Ingemar realized. A solid lump formed in his throat. _What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?_ He searched for an answer frantically, even as one pale hand, now crawling with tiny worm-like tendrils, neared his face. "Wait!" he blurted out. "I don't know who the man I spoke with was, but I can describe him for you. I might even know where he's from."

The hand stopped.

"Go on," the monster said.

Ingemar dared not to sigh in relief. Instead, he quickly rattled off, "He's a man about a head taller than myself, thin, and with golden hair. In all likelihood, he's from the principality of Hessan."

"Tall. Thin. Blond." Alex snorted. "You think any of that is supposed to help me?"

"Elsewhere, no," Ingemar admitted. "But here in Germania, there are very few who are of fair hair. Only those of foreign blood have it. Please, I swear I've told you everything I know."

"Not everything," Alex said. "How do you know he's from Hessan?"

"By his ring," Ingemar answered instantly. "I've peddled jewelry for many, many years, so I recognized the designer's make immediately. It's one of Tobias's works, a master goldsmith from the city of Gimsburg, in Hessan. That's everything, I swear, I swear. Please, spare me."

Alex stared at Ingemar for a while longer, and he feared the deliberation he could see behind those icy blue eyes. Then the worms on the monster's arms settled, until only smooth skin and leather remained. Alex pulled his arm back and stood up.

"You're a lucky man," he said. "Go join your family. Leave everything behind if you have to. But just remember this: if I ever find out that you lied to me, I _will_ come back and kill you."

"I understand," Ingemar said profusely. "I understand, thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Alex turned and walked away. But at the broken down doorway, he suddenly stopped and turned back around, and fresh fear filled Ingemar. Did the monster change his mind? Was he going to kill him after all?

"One more thing," Alex said. "If you ever find out that there's someone who wants to hurt the princess, tell them what happened here today. Tell them that Henrietta de Tristain is under my protection now, and I will kill anyone who tries to hurt her. It doesn't matter how far they run, I will chase them. It doesn't matter where they hide, I will find them. I don't care if they're a king or emperor or a merchant, it's all the same to me. No matter who it is, they're dead. You tell them that, got it?"

Ingemar nodded, and licked his dry lips. "I understand. I will."

"Good," Alex grunted, and left.

Once he was alone, Ingemar collapsed onto his back and spread his limbs out. Suddenly, he began to laugh. He was alive. _Alive!_ But that wasn't what amused him so. It was the realization that the ones who had commanded him to hire those assassins, who had lorded their magic over his gold and threatened him and his wife and child, had just unleashed a demon like that of the stories told to children to scare them into good behavior.

And it was coming for them.

Ingemar stood up, brushed the dust off his shirt and pants, and smiled. He didn't have time to sit around. He had plans to make. He had heard that Romalia was quite lovely at this time of the year. Perhaps he'll settle his family there.


	13. Germania: Part 3

**Chapter 13**

Several leagues east of Aubergine, in the south-central valley of Anhalt, the road split in two. One led north towards the capital of the province, while the other wended south through the mountains that formed a natural barrier to the neighboring principality, Wortemburg. It was at this point that Henrietta's procession came to a stop, so that the men could rest and they could determine which path to take.

Their original plan had been to take the northern road. It was the safer and easier route by far, with many small towns and villages along the way for rest and resupply. The capital of the province lay in that direction as well. Courtesy demanded that they pay their respects to the prince whose territory they were passing through. But all that made it a predictable course of action. Now that they knew that there were those who sought to kill Henrietta in this country, they did not dare walk blindly into what could be an ambush.

"It'll be harder on the men," Mazarin said finally, "but we have no choice but to go south. We cannot gamble with the princess's life."

"If it is her safety you value," Joanna von Zerbst said, "then I cannot recommend the southern pass either. Bandits have recently taken shelter in the mountains there, and I do not much relish the thought of traveling through their territory."

"Combined we have over a thousand men," Henrietta said curiously. "Surely no mere bandits would dare try to attack such a formidable force."

"Greed may blind even the wisest of men," Lady Joanna said, "and bandits are already not known for their sterling wisdom. What they lack in wisdom, however, they make up for in numbers, which is all too conducive towards promoting a reckless courage in the unit as a whole."

"Do you know how many of them there are?"

"Two thousand, last I've heard."

"Two thousand!" Henrietta exclaimed. "Forgive me, my lady, but how could your lord husband allow this problem to grow so out of hand?"

"To say that he allowed it would be to ascribe him the fault of not trying." Lady Joanna shook her head. "Your Highness, you are Tristanian, and thus you tend to consider solutions on the basis of what can be accomplished through magic. I'm certain that with just the six hundred knights you have here, given enough time and supplies, they could root out the entire bandit tribe. But as I've said before, Germania lacks in mages, especially in comparison to Tristain, and so we must most often consider how to solve a problem such as this by the gun and sword. Usually that is sufficient, but in this type of terrain, where the bandits have entrenched themselves deep in the mountain's innumerable caves and crags, ten times their numbers could go in with the intent of driving them out and, though they might succeed, they would suffer catastrophic losses."

"Forgive me," Henrietta said, mollified. "You are right, of course. Still, I cannot help but to be shocked. Why are there so many of them? For what purpose have they gathered here in such numbers?"

"For the precise reason that the mountains are eminently defensible, I suppose." Lady Joanna shrugged. "Cowards and fools, the lot of them. They forget that there are no resources for them to take advantage of there, no gold or silver mines and little food and water. They've mostly survived thus far by raiding the surrounding lands, but over a dozen fortresses have been erected all around the mountain this past year, putting a stranglehold on their efforts. Sooner or later, they will either starve to death or surrender."

"'Sooner' is still too late for us." Henrietta made a frustrated sound. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Go north, to my home of Magdesburg," Lady Joanna said promptly. "My husband and I can loan you and your men some of our ships to fly to Vindobona."

"That cannot be done," Henrietta shook his head. "His Imperial Majesty specifically stipulated that we must travel to Vindobona by land, else we would already be there. He wants as many people as possible to know that we are truly set to marry. We would already be bending our agreement with him by taking a different route to the capital."

Lady Joanna clicked her tongue, and underneath her breath, so quietly that only Henrietta barely heard her speak, she said, "That man and his insufferable ego."

"Your Highness," Sir Marrok said. "I have an idea."

"Yes? What is it?"

"Way I see it, we need to get through the mountains, and these bandits are in our way, right?" Sir Marrok said. "If that's the case, the answer is simple. I'll take a few hundred of our knights and destroy them for you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Mazarin scoffed. "How long do you think that would take? It certainly wouldn't be an affair that could be solved in a few days."

"I must concur," Lady Joanna said. "Your Highness, if you cannot take the ships all the way to Vindobona, then perhaps just in part will be acceptable? We could fly over the mountains before landing in Wortemburg and continuing on from there."

"Would the Prince of Wortemburg permit that?"

"We would have to visit him and pay our respects, but I can think of no reason why not," Lady Joanna said. "He and my lord husband are already working closely together on this bandit issue, so I would imagine he'd be happy to oblige."

"Unless he's one of the conspirators after the princess's life," Mazarin commented.

Lady Joanna shot him a glare, but Henrietta didn't disagree. "It is a possibility," she said while looking apologetically at Lady Joanna. "What would you suggest we do then, Cardinal?"

"I would recommend that we accept Lady Joanna's offer, and follow her first suggestion," Mazarin answered promptly, surprising them all. "We ought to fly directly to Vindobona. With what dangers we might face by land, it is no choice at all."

"But the emperor..."

"Is unlikely to be so angry that he will break his engagement with you for that alone," Mazarin interjected, "especially once he hears our reasons why. We are not the only ones who stand to gain something from this marriage, and I doubt he is at all shortsighted enough to put the wand before the mage."

"Then it's settled," Henrietta nodded. "Let us make camp for the night here, and then head for Magdesburg tomorrow."

They all agreed and left her. Once the tents were set up and the cooking fires started, Henrietta retired to her own tent and laid down on her bed. It was a comfortable thing, but it struck Henrietta as something altogether too luxurious for travel. She sighed and rolled over onto her belly, burying her face into her pillow and feeling the warmth of her breath spreading across her face.

 _Bandits and traitors now, was it?_ Henrietta gave a muffled sigh. She did not like this country. It seemed that everywhere she went, there was someone or something waiting to kill her. She wanted to go back to Tristain, where she was safe, though even that was only a temporary term. _Germania, Albion, Reconquista... I am not suited to rule in these chaotic times. I wonder if I am suited to rule at all._

She thought back to the days of her childhood, when she had hardly a care in the world. There was one event in particular that brought a smile to her face, even now when the shadow of death lingered over her like a reaper. It was when she and Louise were playing at pretend royal court. They had played this game many times before, and always Louise would seize the role of princess or queen for herself, leaving Henrietta to play the role of the knight. But it was different on that day. Tired of playing the subordinate, Henrietta declared that she would be playing the queen, to which Louise refused most strenuously. They got into their first argument, and then their first fight – a fistfight, at that.

Henrietta smiled fondly. _What a sight we must have made._ It was an unbecoming moment for the both of them, to be sure. The princess of Tristain and the daughter of the legendary Karin the Heavy Wind, battling it out like two commoners. In the end, however, justice prevailed. The false queen was overthrown and the true heir to the throne rose up to take her rightful place after emerging victorious in what they would later refer to as the Siege of Amiens (though it was neither a siege nor were they anywhere near the town of Amiens; they simply thought it sounded more impressive that way).

The deciding blow had been a punch straight into Louise's stomach, upon which she had begun crying. Seeing this, Henrietta had begun crying as well, though she could not quite remember why anymore. It might have been the realization that she had fought and hurt her dearest friend, or that she had begun to feel the pain of her own cuts and bruises as the adrenaline wore off, or perhaps it was something else entirely. Regardless, the noise attracted the attention of a few servants, who reported what had happened to the king and queen, who in turn left the punishment for the both of them up to Karin.

After that, they never fought again.

Ever.

Henrietta shuddered involuntarily, then rolled over on her back. It felt like she had been reminiscing for hours, though it could not have been more than a handful of minutes, and the nostalgia had done wonders in washing away her fears, or at least repressing it for the time being. Either way, the effect was the same. She sighed drowsily and slowly began to drift off into sleep.

 _If only it were always so,_ she thought sadly as her eyes closed, _that it was the just who always won in real life._

That night, perhaps brought about by her reminiscing, she dreamed of the days of her childhood, and she dreamed of Louise Francoise.

* * *

"Life is strange," Antoine said as he bit into a tough, leathery strip of dried jerky and chewed on it. "Don't you think so, brother?"

Marrok glanced aside at the younger, sandy-haired man who sat not far from him by the same campfire, and grunted, "Dunno what you're talking about."

"The only reason why we're here is to get ourselves in a position close to the princess so that we can kill her for Reconquista," Antoine said, gesturing at him with half of his jerky strip. "And yet, by force of circumstance, now we must truly protect her instead of simply allowing her to die. Isn't that strange?"

"No," Marrok replied, glancing around. "Now shut the fuck up before everyone hears you."

Antoine fell silent, though not without shooting a surly, pouty look in his direction. Marrok didn't care. He grudgingly accepted the boy as the husband to his sister, but that was the extent of it. He may call him brother, but Marrok did not feel the same way about him. He thought of him in much the same way as he did a shit stain on his trousers, unwanted and uncomfortable, though Marrok supposed that the boy was nominally more useful than that. Even so, one of these days he might kill the boy, so vast was his irritation towards him. The temptation was there, and it was real.

 _You had to push him off onto me, didn't you, Wardes?_ Marrok thought. _Couldn't keep him out of my hair for this already shitty job, could you? You and I are going to have words when I return, count on that._

What annoyed Marrok the most, however, was that Antoine was right. What had begun as an ordinary, boring escort duty had quickly spiraled out of his hands into something more. The fact that there was a Germanian plot against the princess's life was something none of them had predicted, and it was a great disturbance on their own plans.

They needed the princess to die for Reconquista to succeed, so ordinarily the fact that a completely unrelated party was willing to do their job for them would have been a godsend. Unfortunately, the remaining royalist forces of Albion were still stubbornly holding on to the last of their territory. So long as they continued to fight, Reconquista was in no position to take advantage of the chaos that would ensue from the loss of the heir to Tristain. In the worst case scenario, while Reconquista scrambled to muster a force to conquer Tristain, Germania or Gallia would swoop in first and seize the country. If they did, then that would immediately kill all of Reconquista's hopes for expansion.

The princess could not be permitted to die. Not yet.

But for Marrok, that reason was ancillary. It was the logic he expected Wardes to come up with. More important was that Henrietta had been promised to him. She was his. He glanced aside towards the princess's tent and licked his lips as he imagined her naked form. Those lithe arms, her long legs, that slender waist and pretty face and breasts. They were all his. She was owed to him, to do with as he pleased. To rip and tear as he desired. To see her tears flowing from those clear blue eyes as he hunted her down across an open field. To kill with his own two hands. She was his and his alone.

Marrok bared his teeth in a wide, hungry grin.

 _And I'll kill anyone who tries to take her from me._

* * *

The dust rose up high and thick behind Alex as he ran up the northern road out of Anhalt and into the principality of Hessan. The land here might have once been a forest, but untold years of deforestation had practically transformed it into a desert. The dirt road he was traveling on was not meant to support something as heavy and dense as he was at the speed he was running, which was in excess of two hundred miles per hour. He wasn't bothered by the damage he was causing, though. Or rather, he wasn't bothered to even think about it. His mind was elsewhere, focused only on that which mattered most with ice cold clarity.

 _Find Tobias. Find the ones who are responsible for the assassins. Kill them all._

It had been mere hours since he had left Ingemar's manor, and not once had he stopped to catch his breath. But after half an hour more of running, he slowed down at last, eventually coming to a stop. He frowned as he waited for the dust around him to settle, and sheltered his eyes from the bright sun with one hand. He hadn't stopped because he was tired. He stopped because, there in the distance, much further down the road, there was another cloud of dust. Something was coming this way.

Dust and distance made it difficult to see what that something was, so Alex switched to thermal vision in order to filter out all the visual obstructions. He could make out the shapes of men and horses galloping at top speed. One rider was in front, with around eight or nine more not far behind. When Alex saw that they held weapons in their hands, he realized that they were in pursuit. As they drew still closer, Alex was then able to make out the size of each of the riders, and saw that the one at their head was small enough to be a child.

By then they were near enough that Alex could turn off his thermal sight. Their horses were eating up the distance between them fast. The boy at the front glanced over his shoulder and made a panicked expression. The riders behind him were gaining. He looked up front again, and saw Alex. His mouth moved, but Alex couldn't hear what he was saying over the noise of the men's indistinct shouting and the horses' hoofbeats. Then again, he didn't need to hear to know what he was saying. It was obvious enough, given the circumstances.

 _Help me!_

Alex clicked his tongue, briefly debating whether or not he ought to just step aside and not get involved. _I don't have time for this._ For every second that passed, it was that much more likely that another assassin would be sent after Henrietta. He was already anxious enough leaving her behind undefended, which was why he needed to quickly and permanently resolve the threat and return. _Dammit. I'll do this fast._

He knelt down and drove his hand into the earth. After the boy passed a spot up ahead, Alex unleashed spears of hardened biomass from the ground. They tore into the horses' bellies and through the legs and groins of the riders, impaling them and raising them a dozen feet or more into the air. They screamed, produced crimson rain, and they died.

Alex retracted the groundspikes, letting the bodies fall to the ground unconsumed. He didn't care to know why they were chasing after the boy, nor did he want to waste precious time processing and internalizing their memories. He made to continue his sprint, when the boy wheeled around and stopped him.

"By the Founder," the boy said, astonished as he looked from Alex to the corpses and back again. His brows creased. "You are not human."

"You think?" Alex said sarcastically. "What gave it away?"

The boy flushed as he climbed off his horse. "Well, whatever or whoever you are, you have my gratitude. If not for you, I'd be dead."

Alex grunted. "Go home, kid. Get someplace safe."

The boy shook his head, grimacing. "You do not understand. I've just fled my home. These bandits raided my family's mansion and murdered my parents. I only narrowly managed to escape."

Despite his rush, Alex couldn't help but give the boy a once over. Underneath the dirt, sweat, and grime that coated him, Alex could see that his clothes were finely made. It was definitely not the type of clothes a simple peasant could afford.

"You a noble?" Alex asked.

"My father was a merchant of some wealth," the boy answered, "which was why the bandits marked us as their target; we were rich enough to be worth stealing from, but not enough to hire many guards."

"That's too bad."

"Will you help me?" the boy asked. "If you'll escort me to my uncle, I could reward you handsomely."

"Not interested," Alex said dismissively. "You'll have to make it on your own."

"Please, sir," the boy begged. "I haven't any food or water, and when the others learn of my survival, I fear they'll send more to finish the job. If it's a question of gold, my uncle will pay my weight in it."

"Unless you can tell me where to find Tobias," Alex said irritably, "I don't need anything from you or your uncle."

"Tobias?" The boy lit up and seized upon the name. "Do you mean that famous goldsmith in Gimsburg?"

Suddenly, Alex was no longer in quite the same rush as before. "That's the one. You know him?"

"Of course," the boy said proudly, puffing out his thin chest. "My father has done business with the man many a time. I've accompanied him on a few of these business trips before as well. My uncle, too, is one of his most frequent clients. This is perfect. If you take me to my uncle in Gimsburg, I'll make certain that he introduces you to Tobias."

Alex considered this offer for a moment. He had originally planned to just go to Gimsburg and consume someone the city was better off without and who might know where Tobias lived. But now he wondered if simply taking this boy to the city might be faster.

"What's your name?" Alex said at last.

"Alois," the boy replied respectfully. "And you, sir?"

"Alex Mercer." He sighed. "Fine, I'll take you to Gimsburg. But leave the horse behind."

The boy stared at him quizzically. "You mean for us to go by foot? I thought you were in a hurry."

"I am. The horse'll slow me down." Alex grabbed Alois and slung him over his shoulder, much to the boy's confusion. Alex glared at him, and growled, "I swear, if you throw up all over me, I'm going to drop you right there."


	14. Germania: Part 4

**Chapter 14**

To his credit, Alois managed to avoid throwing up until after Alex set him down outside of Gimsburg. It had been a heroic effort given how rough the ride must have been for the boy, constantly being bumped up and down on Alex's shoulder at such great speeds for hours on end. It was why Alex was giving him some leeway now, crossing his arms and tapping one finger impatiently while waiting for him to finish emptying whatever he had eaten for breakfast that day into the grass and dirt beside the road.

"So where's your uncle live?" Alex asked once it seemed like the boy was done.

"O-over there." Alois hitched and doubled over again, vomiting some more. Alex sighed. "Over there," he said again, more firmly this time as he pointed to a mansion on a hill on the far side of town. "He's the lord of the town, the Count of Gimsburg."

Alex nodded. "All right. Let's get going." He moved to pick Alois back up, but the boy hastily retreated several steps away from him, waving his hands in front of himself frantically.

"No, no," Alois said. "Please, let me walk. We're already almost there, so let me walk the rest of the way on my own."

"Walk fast, then," Alex growled as he pulled his arm back.

As they entered the town, Alex was instantly struck by the smell of coal and charcoal. It was everywhere here, and columns of white smoke rose up towards the sky from every direction.

"Gimsburg is famous for its thriving smithing business," Alois explained when he noticed Alex glancing this way and that at the many people working with hammer and forge. "Blacksmiths, goldsmiths, silversmiths, they have them all here. Many young apprentices come this way to learn from the greatest masters of the craft Germania has to offer."

"Hngh," Alex grunted indifferently. Some of those whom they passed were giving them odd looks, though this had less to do with Alex than it did with Alois. The boy was still dirty and ragged from his earlier flight from the bandits, which created a strange juxtaposition given how fine his clothes were underneath the layer of filth. They ignored these stares as they pressed on through the city, until at last they arrived at the mansion on the hill. They were stopped by armed guards at its gates, each wielding a musket with a bayonet.

"Halt," one of them said in a commanding voice. "Who goes there?"

"Tell the count that his nephew, Alois, has come to see him," the boy replied.

The guards glanced at each other, raising eyebrows. Even without consuming them, Alex could practically hear what they were thinking: _Is this filthy kid really the nephew of our lord?_ "Wait here," one finally said after a moment, before going into the mansion. After a few minutes, he returned and said to them, respectfully, "Please go on in. The count awaits you."

The two men stood aside and let them pass. Alex and Alois found the count of Gimsburg waiting for them in the mansion's antechamber. When he saw Alois, he spread his arms wide open and smiled broadly.

"Alois, beloved nephew," he said, stepping forward and seizing the boy in a great bear hug and lifting him several feet off the ground. "When my guards told me that there was a boy at the gates claiming to be my nephew, I wasn't quite sure what to think. But you are here, indeed, and how good it is to see you."

"I am gladdened to see you too, Uncle Griswold," Alois wheezed. "Please put me down. I cannot breathe."

The count obliged, grinning sheepishly, and firmly patted Alois on the shoulder. "When was the last I saw you? A year-and-half ago, I think? You've grown so much since then."

"Thank you, Uncle," Alois said. "Unfortunately, though I would love nothing more than to sit and reminisce with you, we have much else to discuss. As you can see, a great ordeal has fallen upon me, and I must ask for your aid. But before that, might you lend me a bath so that I may refresh myself first?"

"Of course," Griswold nodded. "I'll have the servants draw up the bath for you immediately."

"Thank you," Alois said. "Now, there is someone I must introduce to you as well. This is Alex Mercer. He is the reason why I am here dirtied rather than dead. He is my savior, and I believe he has something to ask of you."

"Anything for the man who saved my nephew." Griswold turned to face Alex. "What is it that you need?"

"I'm searching for a man," Alex said. "Tobias the Goldsmith. Do you know where he lives?"

"Of course," Griswold nodded. "How could I not? But will you not sup with us before you leave? Allow me to show you my gratitude."

"If you tell me where to find him, that'll be thanks enough."

"I understand," Griswold said. "A pity, however. You there," he pointed at a nearby guard, "show this man to Tobias's shop."

The guard saluted, then motioned for Alex to follow him out the door. "This way."

Alex was led back down into the branching streets of the town, until about twenty minutes later they arrived in front of a glass-windowed shop.

"He's in there," the guard said. "I'll wait out here for you, in case you need anything else."

"Don't bother," Alex said, and pushed the door open.

The store reminded Alex of a modern day jewelry shop. Rings, necklaces, earrings, and other baubles and trinkets were displayed in glass counters on dark velvet sheets. A thin man with equally thin hair stood behind one of these counters, as he painstakingly polished a brilliantly cut ruby.

"Tobias?" Alex said.

"Indeed," the man replied without turning around. "How may I help you, sir?"

"I'm looking for a man," Alex said. "Thin, blond, about this high. I'm told he bought a ring from you before. Ring any bells?"

"It is store policy to never reveal the personal details of customers," Tobias said. "Confidentiality can be quite important for certain people, you realize."

"Your _customer_ sent assassins after someone I know," Alex growled. "I need to find him before he sends more."

"I sympathize with your situation, truly I do," Tobias sighed, though he never took a break from his work. "But if what you say is true, then I dare not involve myself in the matter. Suppose you find this man you are looking for and fail to stop him. What would happen to me if word got to him that it was I who sent you there? I will not put my life at risk for the sake of a stranger. If that is all, I must ask you to leave."

Alex scowled, took three strides forward, reached over the counter and forced the goldsmith to turn towards him. The ruby slipped from the man's hands and dropped to the ground. " _Look at me,_ " he snarled, causing Tobias's eyes to widen in surprise. "I'm not asking you to tell me what you know. I'm giving you a choice. You either tell me or I will kill you myself."

"With a soldier standing right outside the door?" Tobias scoffed. "I think not. I told you my decision. I want no part in this affair. Now leave, before I have you arrested."

"You don't need to die today," Alex growled, "but I'm running out of patience."

Tobias glared back at Alex. His breathing slowed and his expression became angry and defiant. Then he opened his mouth and suddenly cried out, "Guards! Arrest this man!"

In an instant, Alex pulled Tobias clear over the counter and drove his hand into the man's belly like a spear. A gush of blood spilled out onto the floor, splattering Alex's ankles and feet. The goldsmith's eyes went wide with disbelief, as he glanced down to where Alex's arm had fused with his stomach. Tendrils connected arm and body, and there was a terrible wet noise as they dragged Tobias completely _into_ Alex, until nothing but the initial bloodstains were left behind.

Alex moaned loudly and seized his head as a painful headache suddenly attacked him. The life of Tobias the Goldsmith flooded his mind, but with some work he was able to extract the information he needed. The identity of the blond man. There were a few that Tobias had served, but only one that both matched Ingemar's description and had the power and wealth to send assassins after a princess: Jonathon Seymour. He was in the palace of Wesboden, the capital of Hessan, as a trusted retainer to the prince.

Somewhere, seemingly at a distance measured in miles, the door to the store slammed open. Dimly, Alex was aware that it was the guard who had escorted him here; the same one that Tobias had called upon in his final moments. There was smoke trailing from the end of his musket, and Alex realized that he had just been shot.

"Monster!" the guardsman cried when he saw how, as Alex's body regenerated, the musket ball was pushed out of his body and fell to the floor in a disquieting clatter.

Alex shook his head as his headache at last faded away. He stepped over to the soldier who was frantically trying to reload, but gave up halfway when he saw Alex move and took a ready stance with his bayonet affixed instead.

Alex grabbed the musket by the end of its muzzle and squeezed. The wood cracked and steel groaned as the firearm was bent irreparably. With a quick jerk, he then pulled the gun free from the guardsman's hand and cast it aside. Now disarmed, the soldier began backing away until he was pressed up against the wooden door. Alex reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, then roughly pushed him aside. He went out into the streets, where a crowd had gathered in front of the store, and were now giving him a wide berth. Some even turned and fled.

 _Guess I made too much noise,_ Alex thought.

Shrugging to himself, Alex jumped and landed clear on the other side of the crowd. Then he ran until he left the town.


	15. Germania: Part 5

**Chapter 15**

They arrived at the capital of Anhalt, Magdesburg, by the evening of the next day. There they found that a great mass of people were already gathered and waiting for them outside its gates, with lit braziers and musicians to welcome them. Henrietta poked her head out the window, but the orange glare of the setting sun was in her eyes, making it impossible for her to clearly make out the features of those among the crowd.

"Who are those people waiting for us?" Henrietta asked, as she ducked her head back in her carriage.

"I would assume that to be my lord husband and his retainers, Your Highness," Lady Joanna answered.

"Truly?" Henrietta's eyebrows went up in surprise. "You and your husband are too kind, to go to such lengths to welcome me."

"We believe in honoring all our guests," Lady Joanna smiled. "It is the Zerbst family's way."

Henrietta smiled at her. "Even so, I thank you for the courtesy. I shan't forget it."

Prince Arduin was a surprisingly short man, Henrietta found, as they came to a stop in front of the Germanian crowd and stepped out of their carriage. When he and his wife embraced each other and shared a brief kiss, she noticed that he stood a full head shorter than Lady Joanna, and was only slightly taller than Henrietta herself. Despite that, he was possessed of an aura of unshakable confidence. As he turned to Henrietta, he smiled widely, his pearly white teeth standing out all the more starkly in contrast to his dark olive skin.

"Your Highness." Prince Arduin stepped forward and bowed. Then, as customs dictated, Henrietta held out her hand and allowed him to lay a brief kiss on it. "I humbly welcome you to Magdesburg. I am certain that it has been a long ride. Please, allow us to escort you to my palace. I've already prepared food and boarding for you and your men."

"I thank you for your generosity," Henrietta replied, "and we would be most grateful to accept your kind offer."

They followed Prince Arduin and his courtiers inside the city walls. Henrietta found herself further surprised by the welcome they received there, as citizens of the city lined up all along the main street that ran straight through the center of the city and cheered her name.

"All hail the princess of Tristain!" some would cry. "Long live Empress Henrietta!" others would shout.

"Her Highness is quite popular here," Mazarin said, as trumpets and lutes filled the air with festive songs. "I'm rather surprised, actually."

"Why wouldn't the people of Germania love their future empress?" Lady Joanna said, smiling lightly at the much older man.

"History," Mazarin simply replied, causing Lady Joanna's smile to falter, and looked back out the window.

Henrietta understood what he meant. Anhalt, being the closest to Tristain of all the Germanian principalities, most strongly felt her influence in times of peace. She could see that now as they arrived at the palace of Magdesburg, a vast, towering structure of gleaming marble and stone built in a largely traditional Tristanian style, though not without the quirks idiosyncratic of Germanians.

However, for the exact same reason, in times of war they were the closest and most bitter of enemies. Decades of living as neighbors had given them plenty of time to build bad blood. Even if she was marrying into the Germanian imperial family, it was strange to receive such a vibrant welcome from the citizens. Lord Arduin was most likely the cause of this, somehow.

 _Though I suppose that's better than being reviled and having stones thrown at me,_ Henrietta decided, and pushed her suspicions aside.

As they stepped out of their carriages again, they were escorted into the palace. While hundreds of servants helped unload their wagons, Henrietta, Mazarin, and all her knights were led towards the palace's great dining hall, where scores upon scores of round tables covered in a pure white linen tablecloth and a vase of flowers on the center were set up. Up on the dais at the end of the room, there was a single long table facing them horizontally. Two throne-like chairs were set there, which Henrietta presumed to be Prince Arduin and Lady Joanna's seats. But to her surprise, Lady Joanna took the less decorated seat next to the throne on the right, while Prince Arduin smiled and pulled out the throne on the left for her to sit on. She did so, and he took the seat next to her.

 _Kirche told me I would always be welcome in her home after she came into her titles,_ Henrietta mused, _but to think I would receive such welcome even before that!_

As the rest of the knights took their seats, Prince Arduin stood and faced them all. He smiled the smile that Henrietta was quickly coming to associate with him personally, and began to speak. "Your Highness. Most esteemed Cardinal. Brave knights of Tristain. I'm afraid I'm not much for giving speeches, but as the occasion demands it, allow me to take this time to welcome you all to my city. The hospitality of Magdesburg is yours, and should you require anything to make your stay more comfortable, please do not hesitate to ask." Then he called out to his servants, "Now bring in the food! Our guests are hungry!"

The doors swung wide open, as maids began bringing in trays upon trays of the most delectable foods a prince could offer: whole roast pigs, freshly baked honeynut bread, roast pheasants, and hot pies, and also wine. Copious amounts of wine.

"How do you like the food, Your Highness?" Prince Arduin said once they were well into the feast.

"It is delicious," Henrietta answered honestly. "I fear you are spoiling me, Your Excellency."

Prince Arduin smiled and laughed. "Such humility you possess! It is an admirable quality, though one that is unfortunately shared by too few. But now is the time for you to let loose your appetites. We are all among friends here, so let us celebrate as much as we can while we are all together."

And so they did. For hours they ate, and some of the rowdier knights, emboldened by wine, took a few of the most comely maids in their arms and began to dance to the music provided in the background by a small chamber orchestra. Fearing that this might insult her host, Henrietta was about to order her captains to reinstate discipline, but Prince Arduin stopped her.

"If possible, could you allow them this small act of celebration?" he asked, smiling. "They are doing no harm."

"If it is permissible with you, certainly," Henrietta answered, and waved her captains back down.

When the feast at last came to its end, they adjourned to the rooms that had been prepared for them. Not all of them left, however. Fearing another assassination attempt, a contingent of knights were ordered to keep watch in turns. Henrietta hoped that this didn't insult Prince Arduin, but if it did then so be it. She was not interested in reliving that harrowing experience from Aubergine, and she took no chances. She even had one of her knights who specialized in the earth element to magically reinforce and lock the windows to her provided room. It would take a sledgehammer swung at full force to smash it open. And when she lied down on her bed and closed her eyes, she made sure she had her wand right beside her pillows.

* * *

The next morning, shortly after Henrietta awoke, she was invited to a private breakfast with Prince Arduin and Lady Joanna. As she had no reason to refuse her host's invitation, she accepted the offer; it would have been rude to do otherwise. After her morning ablutions, Henrietta dressed herself in a dress of deep blue and bright gold and followed a servant to the prince's private solar with two of her knights in tow.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Prince Arduin said when she entered the room, her knights taking position just outside the door. He and his wife both immediately stood up and bowed, and Henrietta responded with a polite curtsy. "Your quarters were comfortable, I trust?"

"Very much so," Henrietta replied. "I thank you for your grand welcome last night. It did much to wash away the fatigue of me and my men."

"It was my honor to serve," Prince Arduin smiled. "As I said last night, the hospitality of Magdesburg is yours, for however long you want it. But let us put aside this discussion for the moment so that we may eat. Please, sit."

Henrietta sat down as maids brought in their breakfast. Having eaten so much the night before, Henrietta did not find herself with much of an appetite. Fortunately, their meal was a light one, and it was not long before they each set down their cutlery on the table and the maids whisked their dishes away and poured them cool wine.

"Your Highness," Prince Arduin said. "I'm to understand that you've experienced your share of troubles on your way here."

Henrietta nodded. "Lady Joanna told you about it already, I presume?"

"Yes," Prince Arduin answered. "My wife and I hide nothing from each other. I must apologize. We wanted to keep you safe, but we ought to have welcomed you much closer to the border."

"Your feelings are enough," Henrietta said. "It would not have made a difference, in any case, as the incident took place within Tristain. Lady Joanna mentioned that the two of you were aware of some conspiracy. I wonder if you would be able to tell me anything more?"

"Not at this time, no."

"That is unfortunate," Henrietta sighed.

"Please do not concern yourself over the matter," Prince Arduin said, smiling reassuringly. "You will be escorted to the capital by my finest soldiers. I promise that you will be completely safe."

"Speaking of which," Henrietta said, "I was hoping to ask you for a favor regarding that matter."

"Would that matter happen to be about borrowing my ships to transport you and your men to Vindobona?"

"Yes," Henrietta confirmed. "Lady Joanna told you of that already as well?"

"As I said, we hide nothing from each other." Prince Arduin glanced briefly over to his wife, and they shared a warm smile. "You'll have your ships. I've already ordered a few to be made ready for you. You'll be able to depart by dawn. In the meantime, why don't I give you a tour of the palace?"

The three of them left the solar together, her knights following after them at a polite distance, first heading to the palace's art wing. The floor was covered down the length of the hall by an impossibly long carpet, red and so thick that Henrietta felt her feet physically sink into it like a layer of soft dirt or sand. Judging by its style, it was something that was imported from Rub'al Khali. Henrietta wondered how much something like this cost the Zerbst family. It would have taken at least a small fortune; it was definitely not something any mere noble family could buy on a whim.

Lining the walls were massive portraits, though what they depicted shared no common theme with one another. Some were of famous battles, typically of celebrated Germanian victories; others were of handsome men and beautiful women, and while most were tasteful, some left Henrietta blushing bright red and quickly turning her gaze away from it; but most common were paintings of the Zerbst family, either of them by themselves or all together.

Underneath the paintings, between the walls and the edge of the carpet, were marble busts of historical figures from all across Halkeginia. Aside from the Founder Brimir, there was also the head of Julian the Conquerer of ancient Romalia, Peter the Windfarer of Albion, and even one of Francis the Aggressor of Tristain.

Henrietta politely ignored the fact that King Francis's profile had been carved in a somewhat unflattering light.

"These are all so wonderful," Henrietta said, as they walked down the aisle. "It must have taken you quite a long time to collect all these."

"That would be putting it mildly," Prince Arduin chuckled. "These are my family's treasures. It will be our gift to our descendants, and to you. Along with the ships, I've had my men prepare suitable treasures for one of your rank to depart with. Yet even these are not what I would consider my family's crown jewels. This way, please."

After leaving the art wing, Prince Arduin called for a few servants to prepare a horse for himself and a drawn carriage for Henrietta and his wife. Once they were situated on their rides, Prince Arduin led them to the far west side of the palace grounds. As they drew near, Henrietta could hear the sound of gunfire echoing through the air like thunder.

"Is the prince taking us to the training grounds for your soldiers?" Henrietta turned and asked Lady Joanna.

"Yes." Lady Joanna looked amused. "He is very proud of what he is about to show you. Apologies. This probably isn't something Your Highness is terribly interested in, but would you humor him for the time being?"

"Not at all," Henrietta replied. "I'm rather curious about what he has to show me myself, actually."

Once they arrived at the grounds and dismounted from their rides, Prince Arduin led them to the training field proper. Upon seeing their lord, the call to attention sprang up among the soldiers and all of them immediately stopped what they were doing and saluted the prince.

"Princess." Prince Arduin gestured over to a soldier with a musket. "This is Eckhard. He is a lieutenant in my army. Eckhard, will you show the princess a demonstration of your skills?"

"Yes, my lord." Eckhard turned to a pair of soldiers and said, "Get a target ready for me."

The two soldiers saluted, then hastened to do as they were bid. Soon there was a wooden stake, about as long as Henrietta was tall, driven into the ground on the far end of the firing range, and an apple set on top of it. Then Eckhard took his place at the other end of the range.

"So far," Henrietta murmured, her brows creasing as she measured the distance between Eckhard and the apple.

Eckhard raised his musket, took aim, then after steadying his body with a deep breath, exhaled and then fired.

In the distance, the apple burst apart into a thousand red and yellow pieces.

Henrietta was stunned. She turned to Prince Arduin and said, "That must have been a lucky shot, yes?"

Prince Arduin smiled. "Eckhard, once more, if you will."

"Yes, my lord," Eckhard replied, and after a new apple was brought forward, he made the same shot _again._

"Incredible," Henrietta said. She was no expert in terms of weapons technology, but it was common knowledge that muskets were terribly inaccurate weapons. At most a single musketeer could land a shot up to sixty paces away, but just now Eckhard had easily made a shot that was at least _quadruple_ that distance. With a feat like that, it was no longer a matter of skill; rather, there must have been something unique about the weapon itself. "That is no ordinary musket, is it?" she said to Prince Arduin.

"Right you are, Your Highness," he replied, grinning broadly. "It is a rifled musket."

"Rifled?" Henrietta said. "Forgive me, but I am unfamiliar with this term. What does it mean?"

"Well, let's just say that it is something that makes it far superior to your typical musket," Prince Arduin winked at her. Henrietta merely nodded at that. No matter how gracious her host had been so far, only a fool would so easily give away his military secrets like that. Though that only begged the question: why was he showing this to her? Surely it could not be for the sole purpose of flaunting his strength. "Your Highness, I'd like you to imagine that you are on the battlefield for a moment. Conventional wisdom states that the best way to use muskets is to form up the soldiers in solid blocks and use massed volleys in order to inflict as much damage as possible."

"Yes," Henrietta agreed. "I was taught as much. It is something necessary in order to compensate for their inaccuracy."

"Indeed," Prince Arduin said. "And if you would be so kind, could you explain Tristain's countermeasures to this tactic?"

"There are many," Henrietta frowned. "But the standard counters include the creation of stone barriers to block the bullets and to then attack with spells from cover, utilizing a mage's superior firepower while sending golems forward to wreak havoc upon the enemy lines."

"And as many Germanians can attest to," Prince Arduin said, still smiling, "it is deadly in its efficacy. But now imagine this: you are leading your troops when you hear the sound of gunfire somewhere in the distance. You know not where this gunmen has fired from, only that, before you know it, your knights are falling all around you. Please try to imagine that."

 _Is this meant to be a threat?_ Henrietta frowned. It seemed unlikely given the prince's demeanor and past treatment towards her, yet what else was this supposed to be?

"This new technology has vast implications on the tactics of war," the prince continued, gesturing grandly towards his soldiers as they returned to their training. "No longer do they need to fight in tight formations; they will be able to more effectively take advantage of the natural terrain and cover, be less susceptible to both mass gunfire and spells, and be all the deadlier for it." Prince Arduin paused for a moment to smile and let out a short, proud huff. "Tristain, I know, is the country of magic. More mages live there in proportion to commoners than anywhere else in the world. Your royal knights reflect this fact, being totally composed of mages. Yet, if I may be so bold, Your Highness, this also means that you are still neglecting to use a majority of your population. A tragic loss of potential."

 _Ah,_ Henrietta thought, for at last she understood. _So this is_ not _a threat._

"As proof of friendship, I would be more than happy to provide two thousand of these rifled muskets to you every month," Prince Arduin continued, smiling more broadly than ever, showing those pearly white teeth in all their gleaming glory. "With this, why, your military strength will more than double in only a year."

It was a sales pitch.

Henrietta smiled back at the prince. "You are generous, Your Excellency. But I cannot accept a gift of that magnitude. The world would know me as a shameless woman, greedy beyond measure, if I did."

"I understand." Prince Arduin looked pleased by her reply. "Then what if it were to be done as a trade? No one could criticize you then."

"True," Henrietta said casually. "But you have shown me that you are a man of great wealth and power already. I doubt that there is much my small country could offer you that would make for a satisfactory trade."

"We do not need much," Prince Arduin said. "A trade pact that will allow us to purchase Tristanian goods at a fair and reasonable price is all I ask."

"A fair and reasonable price, indeed," Henrietta remarked.

Prince Arduin nodded. "Truly, Your Highness, my only desire is to be of great service to my future empress. Why, I've heard that the royal orphanages your kingdom runs have as of late been quite a drain on your coffers. I would be more than glad to accept those orphans as if they were my own children and provide for them instead. I promise you that they will rise high and go far."

"You truly have the soul of a father," Henrietta said. "Of course, those orphans you speak of have, shall we say, _special needs_ you may be hard-pressed to accommodate for here in Germania."

"Indeed," Prince Arduin said. "But I believe that I would be able to purchase everything that is necessary for their care through that trade pact."

 _So that's it, then,_ Henrietta thought. It was now clear what Prince Arduin wanted. Saying that he wanted to alleviate a portion of her country's monetary concerns was a thinly veiled cover, one that was easily seen through when one knew who composed the majority of the children in the royal orphanages: the illegitimate offspring of nobles.

Or in other words, mages without titles.

With that piece of information in mind, it made sense why Prince Arduin would be so willing to simply hand over such a crucial piece of military technology, and at such exorbitant, nearly impossible, costs to himself too. For lack of a better word, he was aiming to _breed_ mages within his principality. For such a goal, no price was too high, even if that meant impoverishing his own province in the short term.

Moreover, what he wanted to obtain from Tristain were not only mages; he wanted all the assets necessary to train them: books, wands, perhaps even teachers. He wanted them all for the goal of transforming Anhalt into a province wholly unique in Germania; the only place where magic flourished.

Henrietta felt a little better that the prince's motives were so grand. Otherwise, she might have felt insulted thinking that all his welcome was solely for the sake of making her more agreeable to his proposition.

Unfortunately for the prince, Henrietta was now thinking of a way to reject his offer.

It was true that royal house of Tristain did not maintain a non-magical military arm, but it did so for good reason. Establishing a fourth branch of the royal army meant that the resources currently spent on the Griffin, Dragon, and Manticore Knights would have to be further split into quarters. And although Henrietta could freely admit that these rifled muskets were potent weapons, she did not see them as weapons that could overtake the power and versatility of magic. It simply was not worth weakening the strength of the knight orders just to equip an army of commoners. Additionally, although she had grown quite fond of the Zerbst family, she was still uncomfortable with the idea of giving away so much of Tristain's advantages to a foreign family that shared borders with them, never mind what may come after she had wed the emperor.

This was a difficult problem. Henrietta was having a hard time trying to figure out a way to refuse the prince without sounding blunt and rude, until finally she struck upon a good idea.

 _I shall leave this matter for Mazarin to take care of,_ she decided cheerfully, while outwardly maintaining a serious expression on her face. "Unfortunately, Your Excellency, while your offer is beyond generous, it is not something I can decide for myself. I am still but only a princess, not yet risen to the throne. It is my mother who rules, and Cardinal Mazarin who speaks with her voice. I recommend that you discuss this matter with him."

"I understand, Your Highness," Prince Arduin said in a slightly stiff tone. Behind him, however, Lady Joanna looked amused and rolled her eyes at her husband. But when a messenger came running towards them and handed her a small, sealed letter, which she opened and quickly read, her smile faded and was replaced with a grim expression.

"Dear husband, Your Highness," Lady Joanna said. "I'm afraid we must return to the palace at once, for there is a matter of grave importance we must now attend to."

"And what matter would that be, my love?" Prince Arduin asked.

"Some of my men have returned from the task I set upon them before," Lady Joanna answered. "And they have brought Ingemar with them."


	16. Germania: Part 6

**Chapter 16**

There was a moment of stunned silence as Henrietta stared at Lady Joanna. Something hard and painful seem to form in her chest, and it was only a few seconds later that Henrietta realized that her breathing had stopped. As she finally took in a breath, she noticed that her heart was pounding loudly in her ears.

"Ingemar," Henrietta repeated, licking her suddenly dry lips. "You say that he's here?"

"Yes," Lady Joanna nodded. "After you told me of your troubles, I sent some of my men to... retrieve him. It seems he was attempting to flee the country when they managed to find him. No doubt he feared the justice he so richly deserves."

"I would like to see him," Henrietta said immediately. "No, I _must_ see him. There are so many things I need to know."

"I thought you might," Lady Joanna said. "He's being kept in the dungeons at present. If you'll return to the great hall with my lord husband, however, I shall have him brought before you."

Henrietta agreed, and together with her knights and Prince Arduin, they went back to the great hall and waited. Cardinal Mazarin was called to attend as well. Shortly thereafter, Lady Joanna returned. Behind her was a man dirty with sweat and grime. He had an iron collar around his neck and four long poles were attached to it. Each pole was held firmly at its end by a soldier, who would use it to drag and prod the prisoner forward. He nearly stumbled every time they did this, as his wrists and ankles were shackled together by manacles and a long chain.

Seeing Henrietta waiting for him seemed to frighten Ingemar. He lurched backwards with eyes wide, but was forced to continue onward by the soldiers. He glanced feverishly to the left and right as his tongue flickered out to moisten his dry lips.

Ingemar was stopped fifteen paces away from Henrietta – a safe distance, just to be sure. Still, her knights took up position between the two of them, and only then were the poles at last removed from the nobleman's collar. To Henrietta's surprise, Ingemar immediately fell upon the ground and prostrated himself before her as well as his chains would allow. Henrietta couldn't see the man's face, but she could see his entire body tremble feverishly as he spoke.

"Your Highness," he said, "I swear I was about to leave the country, just as you ordered. I had no intention of remaining here, I swear it."

"Just as _I_ ordered?" Henrietta arched an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, sir?"

"It... it wasn't you who sent your familiar after me?" Ingemar said, tentatively raising his head and glancing around the hall again. "I mean... I assumed... Founder, that monster isn't here, is he?"

"Stop," Henrietta ordered him. It was strange. She had been nervous, perhaps even scared of meeting the man who may have ordered her death, but seeing how much more scared he was of her filled her with a sense of power and courage. False courage, perhaps, but she found her words coming out easily and confidently just the same. "Stand up. I can hardly hear you speak." Ingemar stood, though he continued to fidget constantly. "Now tell me everything, from the beginning. Why did you send the assassins after me? And how is it that you met my familiar?"

"Y-yes, Your Highness," Ingemar said. "The assassins was not by my choice, I confess. Someone – I know not who, for they would not give me their name – coerced me into doing so. The only thing I know is that he is of foreign blood and is likely residing in Hessan, which I know because he wore a ring bearing the mark of Tobias of Gimsburg. As for how I met your familiar, he invaded my home four days past, killed my men and the knight whom I employed, and asked me the same question as you did just now, to which I answered the same."

"Four days ago, you say?" Henrietta said. "That's impossible."

"I swear I'm telling you the truth, Your Highness," Ingemar said so quickly that a bit of spittle went flying in front of him. "I... I swear I'm not lying. I swear it by the Founder."

Henrietta pursed her lips tightly together and said nothing, so in that silence Mazarin spoke instead.

"Why would the princess's familiar let you live?" he said. "I can't imagine that you would hold any other value to it after you gave it what it wanted."

"He let me live as a warning," Ingemar said. "He wanted me to spread a message."

"What message?"

Ingemar glanced back over to Henrietta and licked his lips again. "He said that the Princess Henrietta is now under his protection, and that he will kill anyone who tries to hurt her, even if that person is a king or an emperor."

Henrietta sucked in a breath and her eyes went wide. _Oh, Alex,_ she thought. _What have you done?_

She glanced to the side, and saw that Mazarin had undergone a similar reaction.

As the soldiers reattached the poles to Ingemar's collar and dragged him out of the room, Prince Arduin turned to Henrietta and said, "He may yet be hiding other information from us. If he is, I'll be sure to have them extracted from him."

"Yes, thank you."

"Pardon me, Your Highness," Lady Joanna said. "But is there some significance to how many days ago Ingemar met your familiar?"

"I am not sure," Henrietta admitted. "It's just that the assassins attacked me less than five days ago. If what Ingemar says is true, then it took Alex but a single night to track him down. Where does Ingemar live? I can't imagine it to be very close to Aubergine, else the magistrate there would have heard of him."

"To be sure," Prince Arduin nodded. "He lives much further north, on a small yet fertile plot of land I enfeoffed upon him a few years ago. By foot it would take weeks to get from Aubergine to his manor, and by horse it would still take many days."

"It boggles the mind to imagine that your familiar could make such a journey in a single night," Lady Joanna mused. Then she smiled. "However, he seems like quite the dedicated familiar to go so far out of his way to safeguard his master's life. I wonder if we'll get the chance to meet him before all this is done?"

"Perhaps," Henrietta said, averting her eyes. "Forgive me, Your Excellency, my lady, but I think I wish to go and rest now. Suddenly, I feel quite overcome by exhaustion."

"I understand, Your Highness," Prince Arduin said. "If there is anything we can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask."

* * *

The palace of Wesboden was even larger than the one at Tristania, but what it had in size it lacked in the latter's elegance and grandeur. It was a fortress, emphasizing functionality over form. Set upon a steep hill, its thick sloped walls were deeply entrenched into the earth to deflect cannon fire, while hundreds of cannons peered out ominously between the crenelated parapets. There were no moats, but a ring of wooden spikes had been placed all a short distance away from the base of the walls. The gate was made out of thick oak and bound in solid steel.

 _Wonder how much it cost to build all this?_ Alex mused, as his eyes scanned the battlements from a far distance in the city below.

There were surprisingly few soldiers on the walls given the size of the palace, but what few there were had been expertly placed so as to maximize their field of vision. Moreover, there were no buildings within a half-mile radius of the walls. It was impossible to approach them unseen in broad daylight, yet neither did Alex have the time to wait until night to sneak in quietly.

Perhaps a more direct approach, then?

No, he didn't want to tip his target off too soon, if he could help it. There were still other avenues to consider first.

For instance, if not over, then what about under the walls? For a palace of this size, its sewage system would have to be large and fairly sophisticated. It needed to be able to drain all its waste away from the palace to a nearby river so that it could be flushed away. If he could find that exit point, he would have his way into the palace.

There were two rivers near Wesboden. The first ran directly through the center of the city, but it was used by the people as a source of drinking water, which made it unsuitable for the palace's sewage. If they were using it, Alex had no doubt that the city would be terribly sick with cholera and other illnesses, but on his way here they had all seemed quite healthy. The second river ran outside the city's walls, roughly a mile away. That was where Alex went.

It did not take him long to arrive at the river, and only a little longer to find what he was looking for. At the closest point of the river to the city, Alex found a gated pipe. It was large enough to fit a man if he bent at the waist, but Alex couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he ought to take the direct approach after all. He wrinkled his nose. The smell here was bad enough that he had to temporarily remove his own sense of smell.

"It's just biomass," Alex grumbled to himself, as he climbed into the pipe. His foot made a wet, squelching noise as it sank knee deep into a dark pile of sludge. "Just dirty, fucking biomass."

For half an hour or more, Alex crawled through the pipe. There was no light here, so he had to rely on his sense of touch to guide his way. Eventually, his path began to take a steeper upward slope, until it eventually went completely vertical. At the top of the chute was the opening he needed, and a light that was soon covered by an ominous shadow.

Alex heard someone grunt, and his eyes widened in a horrified realization.

"If you shit on me, I will fucking kill you," Alex growled.

Whoever was sitting on the toilet immediately lurched back to their feet, letting light shine down on Alex again.

"Who's there?" that person said. "Who said that? Are... are you a ghost?"

"Yeah, sure," Alex grunted, as he sank his fingers into the side of the chute and began climbing upwards. "Let's go with that."

The opening for the chute was too small for Alex to fit through, so he had to compress his own body in order to slide out. As he did and retook his normal form, he saw a man dressed in fine clothes staring at him with his pants down by his ankles. Alex glanced at his hair, clicked his tongue when he saw it was black, and said, "Put your fucking pants back on."

"S-sp...!" the man tried to scream, only to be silenced when Alex's hand snaked out and wrapped around his mouth. He spluttered and clawed at Alex's arm, trying to free himself, until all his efforts suddenly ceased. His eyes went down to where four black tendrils, growing out of Alex's torso, had impaled his body. Alex could feel something warm and wet splatter the palm of his hand. Then he consumed him.

After taking a minute to painfully process his newly acquired memories, Alex transformed into the man he had just eaten and stepped out of the restroom. He walked down the halls, nodding politely at a few of the guards he passed by, and went up to the third floor of the palace. As he came to a stop in front of a door, he looked around to make sure no one was watching before knocking on it and entering after being given permission.

Alex's lips instinctively curled into a snarl when he saw the blond man, Jonathon Seymour, sitting behind a wooden desk. Fortunately, Jonathon was too busy writing something down to notice, and Alex quickly regained control of himself.

At last, Jonathon looked up at Alex.

"Kurt. Did you need something?" He sniffed. "And what is that awful smell?"

"I wanted to ask you about a rumor I recently heard," Alex said. "They say you had assassins sent after Princess Henrietta."

Jonathon froze. His eyes narrowed at Alex as he slowly rose to his feet.

"Where did you hear that?" he demanded.

"So it's true."

"It's not a matter a court painter like you should be involved in, much less know about," Jonathon said. "Now I'm going to ask again: where did you hear that?"

"From Ingemar," Alex said, before shedding his disguise and rushing forward, catching Jonathon before he could react. "And that was all I needed to know."

Without giving him a chance to reply, Alex threw Jonathon to the ground and stomped his foot straight _through_ the man's chest. And as tendrils grew out from his leg and connected with the wide-eyed corpse, drawing it into his own body, Alex was once more racked with a terrible headache as the memories of another lifetime flooded into him. And when that was done, Alex snarled and swore.

"Shit!" he said, as he whirled about to look towards the south.

Everything had changed. He no longer had the time or the luxury to hunt down those whom Jonathon had served. They had already gathered and were on the move.

They were marching for Vindobona.

He had to get there first and save Henrietta.


	17. Germania: Part 7

**Chapter 17**

"Thank you again, for everything, Your Excellency," Henrietta said, as Germanian servants loaded the last of the supplies and gifts Prince Arduin had given to her onto the ships behind them. "I will never forget your hospitality."

"You are very welcome, Your Highness," Prince Arduin smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth one final time. "I will pray for your safe travel." He bowed, then turned to Lady Joanna who stood beside Henrietta and leaned up to give her a brief kiss on the lips. "Be well, love."

"I shall," Lady Joanna said, smiling back at him once they parted. Then she and Henrietta joined the others and boarded the ships.

Prince Arduin had loaned them two large ships-of-the-line – the _Augustus_ and the former flagship of the Anhaltian fleet, the _Burning Woman_ – along with a dozen smaller frigates. The ships were all flat-bottomed, allowing them to easily land and ascend from open ground; and as the windstones were burned deep in the bowels of every ship, they began to rise into the air. Soon they were flying above the clouds and making good time. Henrietta leaned over the side of the _Burning Woman_ and gazed out at the sprawling white sea, while a pair of knights stood dutifully behind her. Though the air was bitingly cold this far up in the sky, the sun at her back felt pleasantly warm.

 _It's beautiful,_ Henrietta thought. _When Prince Wales looks out past the skycoast of Albion, is this what he sees?_

Henrietta sighed. She should not be doing this to herself. But the closer she drew to Vindobona, the more she found herself thinking about Prince Wales. It was especially bad now that she had no one to talk to. Mazarin had taken ill from the rocking motion of the ship when it had begun its ascent, and Lady Joanna was busy discussing the itinerary with the captain.

Henrietta sighed again, and went below deck, back to her cabin. Her knights took up position outside her door. She lit an oil lamp on the table and found a scroll next to it. When she unfurled it, she couldn't help but chuckle at what she saw. It was a detailed report of what would be required of her for the engagement ceremony, the key points of the speech she would have to give, the dress she was to wear, and the finalized terms of the alliance – all of it personally organized by Mazarin, it seemed. Even while airsick, he was doing his best to ensure that she was absolutely prepared for what was to come.

Seeing as she had nothing else to do, and hoping that it might take her mind off of Prince Wales for a time, Henrietta laid on her side on the bed and began reading through the scroll's contents, though only halfheartedly. It was dry stuff, and she could not focus. At times she found her eyes moving down the parchment without actually absorbing any of the words, forcing her to go back and read it again.

An hour passed before Henrietta at last gave up and set the scroll aside on the nearby nightstand. She flopped heavily on her back and splayed her limbs out, taking up the whole of the mattress. She stayed like that for a minute, before lazily rolling over to the edge of the bed and reaching down with a hand to trace random patterns on the floorboards with her fingers.

For days the threat of assassins had been an enormous burden on her mind, but this high up in the air it would be difficult for any assassin to reach her. More, Prince Arduin had personally picked his most trustworthy soldiers and sailors to escort her to the capital. Even if one among them – or even if _all_ of them – turned out to be a traitor, she was guarded constantly by her knights, and on this ship they outnumbered the Germanians at least two-to-one. She was as safe now as she would ever be in this country.

However, rather than liberating her from that burden, all it did was to replace it with something else. No longer preoccupied by the threat to her life, Henrietta's thoughts now wandered constantly between Prince Wales and Albion, Emperor Albrecht and their wedding, and her familiar, Alex Mercer.

Alex most of all.

She knew that her familiar was incredibly strong and fast, but she was still boggled by the idea that he could somehow make a journey of weeks in a single night. It was an impossible feat, accomplished only thanks to an impossible pace. Why, to make that trip one would need to travel nearly a hundred leagues an hour without ever stopping for a break.

But more than that, she thought about the warning Alex gave to Ingemar. His loyalty and devotion was touching, and Henrietta couldn't help but smile, even as she wished he had instead chosen to remain by her side and protect her from there instead. At the same time, however, his words were disturbing.

One of the things that Henrietta was so fond of in Alex was his irreverence to others' status. No matter who he talked to, he was always himself. At times that made life difficult for her, but it was such a breath of fresh air that she did not mind. But openly threatening royalty, even if that threat was pointed only at her enemies, was another matter entirely.

For one thing, it reminded Henrietta too much of Reconquista's anti-royalist sentiments. But more importantly, if word of this threat somehow reached Emperor Albrecht's ears, there could be trouble.

 _He said that the Princess Henrietta is now under his protection, and that he will kill anyone who tries to hurt her, even if that person is a king or an emperor._ Yet in all of Halkeginia, there was only one man who claimed the title of emperor. By wording his threat in such a way, whether intentionally or not, her familiar had directly challenged her future husband. The potential crisis _that_ involved was enough to make Henrietta turn around and scream into her pillow.

Henrietta brought these concerns up with Lady Joanna when they joined for lunch in the captain's cabin later that day. (Mazarin had recovered, but still felt slightly queasy and had politely chosen to abstain from eating.)

"It is most certainly a worry," Lady Joanna said after listening to the princess. "But I believe there is also a fair chance that nothing will come of it."

"What makes you say that, my lady?" Henrietta asked.

"It seems to me that Ingemar was spared only because he was a pawn in someone else's game," Lady Joanna explained. "I cannot imagine that your familiar will grant the same mercy to those responsible for the attempt on your life, nor do I believe that he will deliberately slow down long enough to spread the warning throughout the countryside. And with Ingemar currently imprisoned in my family's dungeons, there ought to be very few, if any, who will hear his warning."

"I hope that is true," Henrietta said, but even then unease crept into her heart, and it was not assuaged when she went to seek Mazarin's advice shortly thereafter.

"It is always wisest to prepare for the worst and hope for the best," Mazarin said. "Emperor Albrecht is a mercurial man. If he should hear of this threat, he may decide to annul your engagement and leave Tristain to fend for itself."

"Or he demands Alex's execution in recompense," Henrietta said softly.

Mazarin said nothing, simply nodding, and Henrietta knew which option it was that he would prefer.

That night, as Henrietta laid in bed trying to force herself to sleep, she could not shake off these worries that continued to plague her. And then, as their convoy approached the easternmost border of the province, the tolling bells and cannon fire shattered the silence of the night.

* * *

Lady Joanna, Mazarin, and Sir Marrok were already on the upper deck when Henrietta arrived, wrapped in a shawl and still in her nightwear, with grim expressions on their faces. They were facing south, over the ship's starboard side, while soldiers and knights and sailors all scrambled around them to prepare the cannons.

"What's happening?" Henrietta said. "What's going on?"

"Pirates, Your Highness," Lady Joanna said through clenched teeth.

"Pirates?" Henrietta said incredulously. " _Here?_ "

"It's the mountain bandits," Lady Joanna said. "I should have realized they would not have gathered in such numbers without reason. Cowards and fools? No, I am the only fool here. One amongst them must have discovered a vein of windstones in the mountains and gathered men to mine it, all for this."

"You couldn't have known," Mazarin said.

"But I could have," Lady Joanna spat out. "It's all so obvious now. If I had paid greater attention to the reports of what they had stolen in their raids, I would have seen the pattern. I could have predicted that they were gathering all the supplies necessary to construct their own ships."

A sailor handed Henrietta a telescope, which she brought to her eye and pointed at the incoming fleet. _Ten... twenty... thirty-five..._

Henrietta blanched.

There were fifty ships coming after them.

Most of the pirates' ships were actually little more than rafts, barely large enough to fit ten or fifteen men at a time, but some of them were, in size at least, equal to that of a small clipper. And there were so _many_ of them; they outnumbered the royal convoy at least three-to-one.

"Will we be able to outrun them?" she asked.

"Unlikely," Lady Joanna said. "Their ships are crude, but they're not carrying as much weight as we are, so they will be that much faster. We must prepare to engage." She turned to the captain. "Give out the orders."

The captain saluted, then turned to the crew. "Turn broadside! Beat the drums! I want everyone in position!"

The _Augustus_ and the _Burning Woman_ began turning with what felt like tortuous slowness, while every other ship rose still higher to take position above them in a line formation.

Due to the way that modern ships were designed, cannons could be fired in every direction of the ship, save for above. This meant that seizing the high ground, so to speak, was paramount in ship-to-ship combat, even more so than in regular land based battles. A much smaller and weaker ship could easily destroy the most powerful battleships in the world simply by holding position above them. And because larger ships required proportionately more windstones just to remain afloat, it was not an uncommon occurrence either.

Thus, standard tactics dictated that the smaller warships and mounted aerial knights and soldiers engage in combat first. Their role was to prevent the enemy from taking the higher position and to drive them into the larger battleships' line of fire.

However, the pirates' ships were so small and light that they could rise higher than the maximum height of even the lightest of the convoy's ships, and they lacked mounted soldiers to intercept. Fortunately, their lack of cannons meant that they were unable to rain destruction upon the Germanian fleet. But what they lacked in heavy armaments, they more than made up for in sheer recklessness.

With little more than a sword or pistol in one hand and a windstone in the other, the pirates jumped off the edge of their ships and began free falling through the air, howling like wild animals. Using the pommel or grip of their weapon, they cracked the windstones open, releasing the power stored inside.

It was a terrifying display. No sane man would dare attempt such a thing, except in the most desperate of circumstances. There was almost no margin for error in what they were doing. Indeed, many were killed because they did not break their windstone hard enough to properly release its energy, and their bodies were dashed on the decks of the ships. Others had smashed their windstones too hard, and released all of its power in a single burst, thereby actually _accelerating_ their descent, or else leaving nothing behind to check their fall. Even those who succeeded were still shot down by the score. But there were so _many_ of them that they could afford to take even these losses.

One of Henrietta's knights cast a spell, creating a layer of water above them. When blood started to fall like rain, the water caught it so that they remained unblemished. Soon it was swirling with crimson color, and the only sound that could be heard from above was that of dying men, clashing swords, gunfire, and the _pitter-patter_ of crimson rain

"Sir Marrok," Henrietta said. "How many wind mages do we have?"

"About a hundred, Your Highness."

"Gather them. I want them to fly up and reinforce our allies."

"As you command," Sir Marrok said, bowing briefly before leaving to do as he was told. At the same time, Lady Joanna also made to excuse herself.

"Please pardon me, Your Highness," she said. "I ought to leave to assist my men as well."

"You must not!" Henrietta cried. "If something should happen to you, how will I face your husband and daughter?"

"You need not worry, I assure you," Lady Joanna said, smiling thinly as she slid her wand out from a hidden pocket in her voluminous sleeves. "Though I may not look like it, I am quite the capable battlemage, you see. More, those are my men they are attacking and it is my fault that they have been ambushed. I do not believe I can suppress my rage for much longer if I were to remain here."

"If I cannot stop you, then I wish you luck." Henrietta bit her lips. "May the Founder watch over you."

Lady Joanna bowed, then cast a levitation spell on herself. The winds wrapped around her and lifted her into the air, and she was soon followed by a hundred Tristanian knights, but by then the pirates had descended in force and had begun their slaughter of the Germanian troops.

The arrival of the mages did much in equalizing the fight, but it did not swing it in their favor. To begin, they were outnumbered; but, too, there were other factors that worked against them. The still leaking power of the windstones that the pirates held disrupted all other forms of wind magic within a certain radius; this high up in the sky, the air was thin, weakening the effects of fire magic; and there was no earth for earth spells to be cast. It was those who were also of the water element that found the most success in culling the pirates' number, but they were too few to make a difference.

Using the telescope that the sailor had loaned her earlier, Henrietta tried to find Lady Joanna amongst the chaos of battle. She found her on board a ship called the _Witness,_ moving almost as though she was dancing in the ballroom, turning and spinning this way and that as she battled entire groups of pirates all at once on her own. Almost, that is, save for that undeniable edge of viciousness that belied her normally regal mien. It gave Henrietta the impression of a hungry lioness in a dress.

In one hand, Lady Joanna wielded her wand, attacking with gouts of fire and defending with wind. In the other, she held a sword, which she had taken from one of the pirates she killed. She used both almost effortlessly, simultaneously striking down the pirates both near and far. All the while she shouted out orders and rallying cries, serving as the rock upon which the rest of the Germanians regrouped.

Seeing this, Henrietta allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. Lady Joanna certainly had not lied. She was easily as skilled as any Tristanian knight – an impressive feat considering how underdeveloped magical education tended to be in Germania.

On another ship, Sir Marrok was pushing back the pirates as well. He was a rarity amongst mages, being one of the few with the ability to work all four elements, and amongst knights as well for his strength. He hammered the pirates with spells, overcoming the handicap of the high atmosphere and the windstones' protection through brute force alone. He fought like a wild man, completely unlike the other mage-knights who all fought with the strict discipline typical of their order.

Henrietta lowered the telescope to get a better view of the battle as a whole.

The advantage was finally turning their way, but on many of the smaller ships, which housed the fewest men, the pirates had successfully overrun the defense. Henrietta cried out in futile warning when she saw one of these hijacked ships veer sharply into the line. They rammed into the _Witness,_ and fresh reinforcements were now pushing Lady Joanna and her forces back into a corner.

Seeing this, however, Sir Marrok barked out a few orders and led ten knights with him to fly towards the _Witness._ They attacked the pirates from the flank and rear, allowing Lady Joanna to press forward and catch the pirates in between them.

By then the pirates could see that they were outmatched. Though they had the numbers, they lacked the discipline and equipment necessary to overcome their target. And with Germanian muskets backing Tristanian sword-wands, they were soon driven out.

Two hours after the ambush, the battle ended.


	18. Germania: Part 8

**Chapter 18**

 _Author's Notes:_

 _Sorry for this incredibly short chapter, but I didn't want to attach it to the end of chapter 17 or the beginning of chapter 19 because I felt that both of those chapters would work better without having to carry this little snippet with them. In return, I'll be updating the much longer chapter 19 tomorrow.  
_

* * *

The first time Henrietta met Emperor Albrecht had been on her fourteenth birthday during a party to celebrate her coming of age. That had been back before her father died and before Reconquista had risen up in open rebellion.

When she met the emperor, she had been struck by how unassuming he was at first glance. He was neither particularly attractive nor unattractive; neither very large nor very small. He carried himself with dignity, certainly, but that was typical of nearly every noble, regardless of rank.

What set him apart, however, were his eyes. Though his stomach slightly bulged underneath his doublet and his beard had grown, his eyes alone had not changed in the years since then. When Henrietta looked into them, the only word she could think of to describe them was one of great hunger. This was a man who would never be satisfied with what he had. He would always be looking for more, until he was either dead or all was his.

Henrietta did not like those eyes. There was a fire in them, but no warmth. They were the opposite of Prince Wale's, who cherished what he had and sought to protect them. They were the eyes of a conqueror, not a king. She liked them even less when she noticed them looking her over from head to toe, but particularly around the chest. As she and Mazarin entered the emperor's throne room and she curtsied before him, she had to suppress the desire to cover herself with her arms.

"Welcome to Vindobona, Your Highness, Cardinal," Emperor Albrecht said, nodding at each of them in turn. "I did not expect to see you again so soon. Preparations for your arrival has not yet finished."

"Circumstances forced us to arrive by way of ships," Henrietta confessed. "I learned, nearly at the cost of my life, that there are those who would see us unwed."

"Indeed?" Emperor Albrecht narrowed his eyes into slits as he rose from his throne and walked down the dais. He took Henrietta hand in his and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "You need not concern yourself with such trifles any longer. You are safe now. I shall see to it that you and your men have every need provided for while you are here."

"You have my gratitude, Your Majesty."

"But come now," Emperor Albrecht said. "I wish to hear more about this. Let us retire to my solar so that you may tell me what happened."

Henrietta agreed, and once there she recounted all that had happened to her and her party, starting from the assassins at Aubergine. The only detail she left out was that Alex was currently on the loose in the emperor's country, and had attacked at least one of his noblemen.

"What a troubling story to hear," Emperor Albrecht said when she was finished. "You are unhurt, though, yes? No wounds or scars of any sort?"

"Yes," Henrietta confirmed. "My familiar and knights protected me, as did Lady Joanna and her men."

"She will be properly rewarded for her leal service," Emperor Albrecht said. "I would also reward your knights."

"I am sure they will be delighted to hear that."

The emperor nodded. "My enemies too shall know how I return the favor. Their boldness must be responded to in kind."

"As you say," Henrietta said. "But if I may? Perhaps the simplest solution would be if we were to be wed sooner. Once we are married, it would be too late for our enemies to do anything."

"No," Emperor Albrecht said, standing up and turning away from her, looking out the window. "Our marriage will be the moment when Germania steps into an age of glory. It will be the beginning of a new day, one where none may question our legitimacy as a great power. I will give no one cause to question otherwise, nor will I allow it to be said that I fled into a marriage. Preparations must still be made. Our wedding shall be the grandest in all history, and it will take place as planned in two months."

Henrietta bit her lip. She wanted to scream at the man that she might not even be alive in two months, if not for the assassins, then because of Reconquista. She wanted to yell at him that if that happened, there would be no "age of glory" for him or for Germania. But she knew that would do nothing to change his mind, so she kept her protests to herself and nodded.

"I shall look forward to it," she said, forcing herself to smile instead.


	19. Germania: Part 9

**Chapter 19**

The city outside the window was like a picture captured in a frame.

Vindobona was not the largest city in Germania, and its status as the capital of the country came only because it was the seat of power of the current ruling emperor. Even so, it was still at least three times larger than Tristania, with a proportionately greater population to match. The streets teemed with so much life that it looked like the surface of a disturbed ants' nest.

"Your Highness, if you'll please hold your breath for a moment," said the servant who was helping Henrietta put on her dress.

Henrietta obliged, and let out a quiet grunt when the strings of her corset was pulled tightly against her. She looked at the mirror and grimaced.

"A little tight, no?" Henrietta said, as she looked at the body length mirror next to her.

She was far from a large woman; in fact, she was quite slender. However, the corset was so tight that it made her waist appear as though it was one size skinnier than before, while emphasizing her breasts in a way that the reverse was true. It made it difficult to even bend her back, and there was a constant pressure on her stomach that forced every breath to be taken consciously.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," said the servant. "I have my orders."

 _Orders to do what? Suffocate me?_ While focusing on her breathing, Henrietta looked out the window again and gave a small, humorless smile as she was suddenly struck by a sense of deja vu.

The first day of what was to be the week long celebration for Henrietta and Emperor Albrecht's engagement had come at last. Guests and merchants from all around the country were coming to attend, and the forty princes would be hosted within the palace itself. But while she watched the princes and other nobility arrive at Vindobona through her window by ship or by carriage, she had been relegated to her room so as to create a bigger impact when she made her appearance at last.

The dress that the servant helped her don was not one of hers. It had been a gift from Emperor Albrecht, specially designed to symbolize the unity between their two countries. It was made from the finest samite and bore the colors of both their countries. It was quite garish, truth be told, but Germanians tended to have a certain affection for the ostentatious.

 _If women in Alex's world are permitted to wear pants, I wonder if that means they do not have to wear corsets either?_ Henrietta wondered idly, as she turned around in a circle in front of the mirror. _By the Founder, how envious I would be if that were so._

As her makeup was being applied, someone knocked on her door. "Please wait a moment," Henrietta called out until after they were done. "Come in."

The door opened, and Henrietta was mildly surprised to find Emperor Albrecht himself enter the room. When he saw her, he broke out into a wide smile.

"Leave us alone," he ordered the servant, who bowed and left the room. He looked at Henrietta from top to bottom and beamed in a way that reminded Henrietta of a wolf after a successful kill. "You are beautiful."

"You are too kind, Your Majesty," Henrietta said, curtsying gracefully.

He replied with a bow of his own, and held out his hand for her. "If I may have the honor of escorting you to the hall, Your Highness?"

 _Must we put on a show even when there is no one else around?_ Henrietta thought exasperatedly, whilst outwardly putting on a smile and gently accepting his hand. She noticed that his palms were rough and callused. "The honor would be mine, Your Majesty."

Linking arms with each other, the two of them walked down to the great hall, where two armed soldiers opened the massive oaken doors for them.

It was customary for a gathering of princes in Germania to take place at a round table. It signified that none stood above the other, in name at least, and it was a reminder that even the emperor was in his position because he had been chosen by his peers... and that they could just as easily take it away.

Emperor Albrecht had eschewed that tradition. There was no round table in the hall; only a single horizontal line that ran through the center of the room, all facing towards the table atop the emperor's dais. Henrietta glanced briefly at Emperor Albrecht with a worried look. This was a clear message from the emperor to the other princes: that they were all equal... under him.

Henrietta could feel a headache coming on. _No wonder there are those who want me dead._ She wished that she did not need to be here.

The doors groaned open and the guests began to arrive. Lady Joanna was the first, as she had already been present in the palace. She was here as the representative of her husband, something which seemed to irk the emperor if the way his lips twitched into a frown was any sign. She had a similar reaction, however, pausing when she saw the way the tables were set up. But that lasted only for a brief moment. Then she gracefully went to seat herself at the centermost table in the line, directly facing both the emperor and Henrietta.

Soon the other princes streamed into the hall. They all reacted the same as Lady Joanna, though to varying degrees of intensity. Some had their faces twist into clear indignation and anger; others were far more successful at masking their emotions. None were pleased. For a brief moment, Henrietta thought that there might be those who would burst out in rage, but they all quietly took their seats instead. The absolute silence that fell upon them was like an unlit powder keg just waiting to blow.

As the last of the guests arrived and the doors of the great hall closed shut, Emperor Albrecht pursed his lips tightly together. Fury radiated off him in palpable waves. It was clear why he was so upset; nearly a quarter of the princes were not in attendance. More, they had not even deigned to send a representative in their place, as Prince Arduin had.

It was a clear insult, if not outright treachery.

"I'll have their heads for this," Emperor Albrecht seethed.

Henrietta said nothing, not wanting to bring herself to her fiance's attention while he was so wroth.

The other princes also took notice of their missing peers and began to murmur among themselves. What happened? Where were they? What message were they trying to send? Those were common refrains that Henrietta picked up from their hushed conversations.

One among the princes then stood up with a glass of wine in hand. He was an oddity in the room, being much younger than everyone here save for Henrietta herself, and even then he was not older by much. With his smooth skin and boyish countenance, Henrietta could not imagine him to be one of the princes. Perhaps he was a representative like Lady Joanna instead? The eldest son, mayhaps?

"Your Majesty," the young man said, his voice smooth as silk. "It would seem there are those who have chosen to disregard your generosity out of jealous spite. Let us not allow their absence to ruin the festivities. Today is meant to be a good day. It _is_ a good day. May you and Her Highness live a long coupled life."

And just like that, some of the emperor's tensions melted away. He nodded and raised his own cup, and the boy led the toast in his honor. "To His Majesty!"

" _To His Majesty!"_ came the resounding chorus.

"To Her Highness!"

" _To Her Highness!"_

Then they all tilted their heads back and drank deeply from their cups. As Henrietta drank her wine, it spread a warmth through her body that lasted long after she set her cup back down. She touched her cheek lightly with her fingertips, hoping that her face had not flushed too brightly. But as the warmth became stronger and stronger, especially in her chest, she realized that it was not just because of the alcohol. This was something else entirely. Something a little bit... familiar.

"Alex?" she whispered softly to herself, almost in disbelief, just before the sound of shouts and gunfire were heard outside the hall.

The unseen clash outside settled. Then the doors slammed open, and a single person stood at its threshold.

"What is the meaning of this?" Emperor Albrecht shouted, rising to his feet. The guards stationed inside the hall all leveled their muskets at Alex, but he ignored all of them and made straight for the young man who had made the toast.

The young man's eyes went wide, as he drew a wand and pointed it at Alex. But before he could cast a spell, Alex dashed forward, cutting the space between them to nothing. He lifted the young man up off the ground by the neck. Then he raised his spare arm, its hand morphing into talon-like claws, and Henrietta knew what it was that he meant to do.

"Alex!" she cried out, her heart hammering in her ears even as it tried to rip its way out of her throat. "Stop!"

For a moment, Henrietta feared that Alex would not listen. His claws came dangerously close to the young man's flesh. But inches away from piercing skin, those razor sharp claws froze in the air. He looked at her, and his expression seemed almost surprised. A wave of relief stole the strength in Henrietta's legs. She slumped back into her seat, not having noticed that she had stood up in alarm.

"You know this... creature?" Emperor Albrecht looked at her in astonishment.

"He is my familiar, Alex Mercer," Henrietta explained quickly without looking at him. "Alex, what are you trying to do? Let him go. He has done no one any harm."

Alex's eyes flickered from her to the young man and back again. His glare softened, though not by much. "Is that what you think?" he scoffed. He threw the young man to the ground in front of Henrietta. "Tell her what you've done," he ordered the man. "Tell her, Nagel."

"I don't know _what_ you are talking about," the young man hissed, wincing as he nursed his wrist, which he had landed on poorly when Alex threw him. "You will pay for this. I am the son of the Prince of Hessan. Your head will roll."

Alex snarled and picked Nagel up again. "I know exactly who you are. I know everything that you and your father have done and what you have planned."

"Alex, please," Henrietta said. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"This man here is the one who had Ingemar hire those assassins to try to kill you," Alex said, never letting his hate-filled eyes leave the man whom he held. "He did it because his father told him to. They're planning a rebellion, and they wanted you out of the picture."

"What nonsense is this?" Nagel said, as he struggled in Alex's grip. "What slander? Do you think us all so stupid that we would believe such insanity? Without even a single shred of proof? If you say this because my lord father did not attend this feast himself, it is only because he has fallen ill."

"These are serious accusations to make," Emperor Albrecht agreed, speaking in slow, deliberate tones. He stared at Alex. "It is not a declaration that can be lightly made."

Alex's eyes switched over to the emperor, and for a brief moment there was a flash in his eyes that Henrietta did not at all like. "I'm not here to prove anything to you," he spat. "I'm here to kill him. Then I'm taking you back to Tristain, Henrietta. We need to get you somewhere safe."

The emperor's hand immediately went and wrapped tightly around Henrietta's – _too_ tightly, in fact. She winced at the man's much stronger grip, but the emperor had not noticed that he was hurting her. He was angrier now that she had ever seen him before.

"You dare break into _my_ palace and try to steal _my_ fiancee?" he snarled. "I've heard enough. Guards! Arrest him!"

Alex dropped Nagel again and readied his claws, taking a low, primal stance, like a lion ready to pounce.

 _No!_ Henrietta opened her mouth to scream, but found that she couldn't. If her heart had been trying to pry itself free from her body before, now it had decided to stop working at all. She couldn't breathe, and had to consciously force herself to gasp for air. "Your Majesty..." she began a second later, as she finally found her voice again.

"Your Majesty, please wait!" a new voice from the doors cried out, cutting her off before she could beg for clemency on Alex's behalf. "He speaks the truth!"

There was a ripple of movement as all heads turned to face the newcomer: a boy of perhaps only twelve or thirteen years of age. Despite his youth, however, he walked confidently across the room to kneel before the emperor.

"You!" Nagel hissed, eyes wide. "How are you–"

"Alive, Brother?" the boy finished with a smirk. "You have Alex to thank for that. He killed those men you sent after me, just as I expect he did the same to the ones you had sent after Princess Henrietta."

"Is my palace so unmanned that now even a child may enter at will?" Emperor Albrecht bemoaned. "What are my guards doing?"

"That, too, you have Alex to thank for, I fear," the boy admitted sheepishly, as he glanced over at Alex, whose eyes narrowed in response. "He was not exactly gentle on his way in."

Henrietta gave Alex a horrified look, to which he shrugged in response. "Didn't kill anyone," he simply said.

Emperor Albrecht growled. "So, who are you? And what proof have you that this creature speaks the truth?"

"My name is Alois von Ainbach, Your Majesty," the boy replied. "Second son to Tabbart, the Prince of Hessan, and younger brother of Nagel, who lies on the floor now before you. As for proof, I bring you this."

With a flourish of his thin arms, the boy withdrew a single sealed scroll from his pocket. One of the nearby guards accepted the rolled up parchment and went up the dais to hand it over to Emperor Albrecht. He broke the seal, unfurled the scroll, and as he read through its contents, his face became more and more livid.

"How dare they!?" he roared, throwing the scroll to the ground.

Curious as to its contents, Henrietta picked the scroll back up to see what had been written on the parchment. Her eyes widened at what she saw. It was a secret pact between thirteen princes, including the Prince of Hessan, signed in blood.

"How did you come upon this pledge?" Henrietta asked.

"I've always known of it, Your Highness, but it was not until recently that I could act upon it," Alois explained. "One year ago, my father began to secretly court the other princes who were discontent with His Majesty's rule. He promised them that, together, they would shatter the Germanian Empire and return every principality to a kingdom unto itself. I disagreed with such a plan, but my brother did not. He and my father imprisoned me to keep me quiet. When at last I attempted my escape, my brother sent assassins to silence me forever, which is when I met Alex. He was looking for a man named Tobias of Gimsburg" – he shot a questioning look at Alex – "whom I helped him find, before departing to parts unknown. With the soldiers I borrowed from my uncle, Count Griswold, I then infiltrated the Palace of Wesboden through a secret escape tunnel, subdued its garrison, and then searched the palace until we at last found this proof of treachery."

"That is a morbid tale," Henrietta said. "But I do not understand. If what you and Alex say is true, then why is he here?" She pointed over at Nagel, who stewed in a glowering silence.

"Perhaps he meant to assassinate His Majesty before my father and his allies attack." Alois shrugged apologetically. "Unfortunately, imprisoned as I was, I am not privy to the finer details of their plot."

Emperor Albrecht stared into his wine cup, swirling its contents around in his hand. "An assassination is not what he is after. By the Founder, it is much simpler." He looked up and glared at Nagel. "If I were to guess, I would say that tonight, or perhaps in the nights later this week, he and his men meant to open the city gates for the traitors' armies, which I imagine we should be able to find by sending scouts to the nearby valleys and mountains. With just that, they could take the city in a single night. Am I wrong?"

"What can I say?" Nagel spat. "You are correct. I have nothing to say in my defense – nothing but this: who is the true traitor here?" He slowly stood up and faced not Emperor Albrecht nor Henrietta nor his brother nor Alex, but the other princes in attendance. "Who is the true traitor here?" he said again. "Who is it that has seated you below him, though it was you – _us_ – who raised him to his lofty pedestal in the first place? Who is the one who, even now, tries to overthrow every tradition of the Germanian people? Once you were all kings. Today you are princes. Tomorrow, you will be naught but mere slaves, serving Emperor Albrecht's family for all time. Is that what you want? I cannot believe that it is. It is not too late, my lords. Even now, my father will accept you to his cause. Even now, you can still become kings. All you need to do is–"

Blood spurted out of Nagel's mouth. When he looked down in wide-eyed fascination, he saw steely claws jutting out of his chest.

"All right," Alex said, as he pulled his claws free from Nagel's body and flicked the blood off his hands. "That's enough out of you."

Silence reigned in the hall. Emperor Albrecht stared at Nagel's corpse on the ground for a moment with furious eyes, as blood continued to pool underneath it. He then leveled that gaze upon each of the attending princes and representatives in turn.

"Go and arrest the rest of his men," he ordered his guards. "They are to be executed immediately for the crime of treachery."

"At once, Your Majesty," the guards said, before they ran out the doors.

"My princes," Emperor Albrecht said, standing up to face the room. "You have heard now the words of the traitor. I have little doubt that an attack will soon be imminent. However, I assure you that you shall all be safe here. In the palace."

All the princes there erupted into uproar, save for Lady Joanna who calmly took another sip of her wine.

"You cannot be serious, Albrecht!" one grizzled old prince said. "You cannot imprison us here! That goes beyond your rights!"

"I do no such thing, Your Excellency," Emperor Albrecht said. "You and your men are, of course, free to leave whenever you please. But if you mean to abandon your emperor in a time such as this, I can only assume that you intend to join the enemy."

"You bastard," the old man growled, clenching his teeth and fists tightly.

Emperor Albrecht smiled humorlessly. "I jest, of course. I know that you are a loyal subject. You came here at my invitation, unlike those traitors, did you not? And so, let us work together to protect the sanctity of our empire. Once this is all over, I swear to you all that you shall be well rewarded."

The old man snarled wordlessly before turning on his heels and stomping out of the hall. The rest of the princes soon followed. Eventually, only Lady Joanna and a handful of other princes remained as they were.

Meanwhile, Henrietta felt like she was about to collapse to the ground. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she felt like it was going to explode. She could not believe what was happening, what had _happened._ And yet there could be no running away from this. It had already begun.

It was the start of a Germanian civil war.


	20. Germania: Part 10

**Chapter 20**

A thin red line trailed up into the sky before bursting into a shower of sparks, and Henrietta knew that all hope for an easy end to the war had been lost.

The scent of powder and blood wafted through the window. Further in the distance, from somewhere unseen in the palace grounds, came a certain commotion as Nagel's men put up their last stand against the emperor's soldiers. Henrietta turned away in an effort to ignore their dying cries, though to no avail.

She looked to the only other person in the room with her. Alex had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his peculiar coat, and his lips were set into a tight, downwards curl. It felt like it had been years since she had last seen him, so this reunion ought to have been a moment to celebrate. Yet any joy she might have felt now was muted, buried beneath a thousand tons of dread, of fear, of anger. The most she could muster was a smile with no substance behind it.

"I met Ingemar," she said. "It seems you have been on quite the journey since Aubergine."

Alex arched an eyebrow. "He's still here?"

"He's being held as a guest in Magdesburg. In one of their dungeons."

"Idiot," he snorted.

"Oh, Alex," Henrietta sighed. "What have you done?"

His brow furrowed together. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" Henrietta couldn't help it. A laugh spilled from her lips, and it shocked her how cold it was. "Do you truly mean that or are you trying to play me for a fool?"

"Henrietta?" Alex took his hands out and frowned deeply. "Why are you so angry?"

"Perhaps it might have _something_ to do with the fact that my familiar has been going around attacking and killing the citizens of another country!"

Alex's eyes narrowed into slits. "I did it to protect you," he snarled. "Everything I did was to protect _you._ "

"Protect me? _Protect me?_ " Henrietta threw her hands up in the air. "Everything you do reflects on me, and the rulers of one country cannot impinge upon the sovereignty of another without risking outright war!"

"You think I care if I _offend_ these people?" Alex scoffed. "My only concern was making sure that whoever sent those assassins after you were stopped. If it wasn't for me, you'd be eating and sleeping under the same goddamn roof as them right now."

"Alex, are you even listening to me?" Henrietta wanted to grab Alex and shake him by the collar. "War! We're talking about _war!_ Do you think that with Reconquista at our backs we can afford to war with Germania? Do you think that without Germania, we can survive against Reconquista?"

"In case you haven't noticed, there's already a war coming this way, with or without me," Alex said. "Do you honestly think that the emperor will be in any position to protect Tristain by the time this is all over?"

Henrietta clenched her teeth so tightly that she could feel the muscles in her jaw tremble.

"Which is why," she said quietly, as she worked her jaws loose again, "I must fight here and now to preserve his status."

Whatever answer Alex expected from her, that had clearly not been it. He blinked at her a few times, staring at her with a blank expression. She might as well have spoken to him in gibberish for all that he seemed to understand.

"What?" he finally said. "No, that's stupid. What you need to do is get away from here as fast as possible. We need to get you back to Tristain."

"So that I can merely prolong the inevitable end?" Henrietta huffed. "I think not. To keep my country safe, I _must_ wed Emperor Albrecht. And to wed the emperor, I have no choice but to help quell this rebellion."

Now it was Alex's turn to grind his teeth together.

"Stop worrying about Reconquista," he said. "I'll put an end to them. I'll keep Tristain safe. So come with me. Let me get you out of here, while we still can."

"Go, if you wish." Henrietta pointed at the door. "I will not hold you here against your will, but neither will I leave by any will but my own."

"Dammit, Henrietta! I'm trying to keep you safe!"

"Safe?" Henrietta laughed that cold laugh again. "Did you know that we were attacked by pirates on our way here? We were fortunate enough to have won the day, but not without cost, nor was it a sure thing. What do you suppose might have happened if we lost then? Do you think I would have been 'safe' at the mercy of pirates? Tell me true, Alex: was it my safety you were after or merely vengeance?"

Alex reeled backwards, struck as if by a physical blow.

"You were attacked by pirates?" he asked in a quiet voice.

It was that horror on his face that at last quenched Henrietta's anger. The fire died away inside of her, and it had consumed all of her strength, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. She sighed, and said more softly, "I know you were only doing what you thought was right. And you are correct that if not for your actions, we would all be in much greater danger now. But why, Alex? Why couldn't you trust me?"

"I do trust you," he said stiffly.

"Do you? Then please tell me why is it that until Lady Joanna's men brought in Ingemar, I hadn't the slightest clue as to where you were? How is it that you were able to leave me with such certainty to hunt down these men whose identities you could not have even known? What made you believe that you could better protect me by leaving me than by staying at my side?" Henrietta stepped forward and placed her hand on Alex's chest, who tensed at her touch. "If you truly trust me, if you honestly think of me as friend, then answer me that."

Alex took a step back away from her hand and looked away. "It's complicated," he muttered.

"I'm sure it is." Henrietta went over to the window. She gazed outside at the city, still so vibrant and peaceful. None of them knew yet that war was coming, and fast. "Alex, I wonder. Do you remember what I said to you as we were leaving the Academy? I said that I want us to be able to trust each other. And to build that trust, I said that I was going to place my faith in you. I'd like to think that I've kept my word. And I thought... I thought that we had grown close enough that you had begun to trust me too. Now I understand that it was only my imagination." She turned again and gave him a smile that did not reach her eyes. She was blinking rapidly. "Never mind. I'm rambling. I must go join the emperor's war council."

Henrietta stepped past Alex, but when she tried to open the door, he reached over her and pushed it back shut, holding it tight against her.

"Do you mean to hold me prisoner, Alex?" Henrietta asked quietly, still staring at the door.

There was silence. Then, in a voice that barely rose above a whisper, Alex said, "I do trust you. I do. I just didn't want to risk losing you."

Henrietta turned to face him, and Alex's hand left the door. His eyes were closed, his face twisted in pain. It was plain to see that this conversation discomforted him, yet Henrietta found that at this moment she did not care. She needed to hear more.

"Please explain."

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Alex nodded.

"Do you remember what I told you?" he said. "About what I am?"

"You said that you were an artificially created human, made to be a living weapon."

He nodded again. "That wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. I didn't tell you everything because I thought you'd become too afraid of me. Or worse, turn you against me."

"Alex..." Henrietta reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand. This time he did not move or try to push her away. His eyes opened, and he stared at her. "You know I would never do that. I won't forsake you. Not ever."

"I know." Alex let out a long breath, and slowly, carefully placed his hand over hers. "I'll tell you everything, but it's going to take some time."

"The war council doesn't start for another half-hour." Henrietta gestured at the tea table in the center of the room and they sat on the two chairs beside it.

"I guess I should start from the beginning," Alex sighed.

And so he did.

It was a tale as wondrous as it was terrible. He told her everything, holding nothing back. He told her of the secret government organization known as Blackwatch, and what atrocities they committed. He told her of the research guild "Jen-tek," and their complicity in Blackwatch's crimes. He told her about the disease they created, Blacklight, and what horrors transpired when it and its predecessor, Redlight, were loosed upon the city.

Three weeks. Millions dead.

He told her of how he died and had been reborn.

Henrietta had once remarked that the men of Alex's world must surely be as the gods themselves. Now she knew better. They were no gods; they were demons in human form. She had seen what plague and disease could do to a people, what terror and inglorious pain they could inflict. What sane man, let alone an entire army, would ever even think to create such a thing with their own hands? To what depths did a human have to fall to enact such evil? Through Alex's tale, Henrietta gazed into the abyss of the human soul – and what she saw there frightened her more than anything else.

"And that's why I can do the things that I can," Alex said as he reached the end of his story. "The shapeshifting, the strength, the speed. All of it comes from the fact that I _am_ the disease. I am Blacklight."

"I... I see." Henrietta's head was buried in her hands. "So when you said you were an artificially made human..."

"... it'd be more accurate to say that I'm a walking plague." Alex crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. "So. Are you afraid of me now?"

"Should I be?"

"Most people would."

"I do not wish to betray your trust by being like most people."

"You could die or be turned into a monster because of me."

"Perhaps." Henrietta sighed. "Perhaps. If Mazarin were here, he would tell me to stay as far away from you as possible. Yet as I think on this, it occurs to me that you have had many chances to infect me until today, yet I remain as healthy as can be. So, no. I do not fear you."

"Then you're a fool," Alex snorted. Yet contrary to his harsh words, there was the slightest upturned curl of his lips, and when Henrietta saw this, she smiled back at him.

"Mean. You are being mean to me again. A gentleman ought to encourage the lady."

"I'm no gentleman."

"And I'm no lady." Henrietta stuck her tongue out at him. "Yet as I've said before, we can both pretend."

A warm silence filled the air between them then, and they were both content to let it sit for a while. After a few minutes, Henrietta spoke again.

"There is still something you have yet to explain, though" she said. "How did you know about Ingemar? And how were you able to find him so quickly?"

"I was saving that for last." Alex leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You already know that I can consume other living creatures to regenerate. But it's more than that. When I consume someone, I'm not just absorbing their flesh; I'm also stealing all of their skills, their appearance, and their memories. I _become_ them. That's how I knew about Ingemar, because the assassins he hired knew. And that's why I can also do things like this now. Let me borrow your wand."

Curious, Henrietta produced her wand and passed it over to him.

" _Igalo."_

"By the Founder!" Henrietta exclaimed, as fire flared from the tip of her wand. A wand, which Henrietta felt needed to be stressed again, _that was currently not in her hands._ "Alex, you... you can use magic? But... no. That's impossible. Magic is the Founder's gift. It is not something that can be stolen."

"Don't know about that," Alex shrugged. He turned the wand over and handed it back to its dumbfounded owner. "But whether you can use magic or not has to do with your genes. It's in your blood. And if it's in the blood, then I can take it."

"This... this is all so unbelievable." Henrietta slumped in her chair, nearly sliding right out of it. "All my life I've been told that magic is the gift of the Founder, given only to his chosen few, thousands of years ago. The nobility are supposed to be their descendants. What does it mean if you can simply take it for yourself?"

"Don't know," Alex said indifferently, as if he had not just overturned her entire world. Again. Then he rubbed his chin and muttered idly to himself, "But this does explain some things."

Henrietta looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Alex waved his hand airily. "I was just thinking – back at the Academy and the palace I saw a lot of people with hair colors that shouldn't be possible for humans to have. Not naturally, anyway. There was even someone with green hair. But you mages aren't normal human beings. You're of a different race."

" _I'm not human!?"_

"You are," Alex said hastily. "That came out wrong. What I meant to say is that you're part of a separate subspecies. You're still closely related enough to regular humans that you could even breed with them."

A dull, throbbing pain was beginning to form behind Henrietta's forehead. She rubbed small circles at her temples to try to make it feel better.

"Alex, telling me that I can 'breed' with someone makes me sound like some sort of brood mare."

"Sorry." And to his credit, he did at least appear apologetic. Henrietta sighed.

"Then again," she said, "given my circumstances, you're not entirely wrong either."

"Henrietta, I'm telling you, you don't _need_ to marry him." Alex leaned in towards her across the table "I'll deal with Reconquista. You don't need to worry about them anymore. So let's go. Now."

The princess smiled. "Alex," she said, "for all your crude behavior, you really are quite sweet. Did you know that?"

"The hell are you talking about?" Alex growled. He straightened his back and glared at her.

"The way you prioritize my happiness over my duty," she said. "There is no one else who would do that, except for perhaps my dear friend Louise. I'm grateful for it."

"I don't want your damn gratitude. I want you to leave Germania and get somewhere safe."

"I mustn't." Henrietta shook her head. "Though your willingness to fight for me is touching, not even you can be in two places at once. And wars are not fought one battle a time. So I will wed the emperor, regardless of how I feel about it."

"Idiot," Alex spat. "That crown has damaged your head. I'm not going to fight just so you can get married to that bastard."

"You're being mean to me again." Henrietta smiled once more, but more sadly this time. "But that's fine. You don't need to fight for the emperor. Just stay by my side."

Alex snorted and said nothing, choosing instead to cross his arms and look away from her.

"There is one more thing," Henrietta continued. "What you told me today, you mustn't repeat to anyone else. In particular, you must never tell anyone that you can use magic."

Alex glanced at her and arched an eyebrow. "An inquisition, huh?"

"Yes," Henrietta grimaced. "Should the Church hear about this, I fear for what consequences it may bring."

"I'll be careful."

"Thank you." Henrietta stood up and sighed. "Come now, we ought to get going. The war council will be starting soon."

* * *

If looks could kill, then Alex's frustrated glower would have already burned two holes straight through the back of Henrietta's skull.

 _Damn her and her stupid sense of duty,_ he thought as they walked down the hall. He balled his hands into tight fists in his pockets, digging his nails into his palms. The temptation to simply grab her and run was so powerful that it was a constant struggle just to hold himself back. What did he care of who ruled this country? As far as he was concerned, both sides could hang. The only stake he had in this war was to kill those responsible for sending those assassins after Henrietta, and that would have to wait until after he got her somewhere safe. He could not allow his absence to put her at risk again. Never again. And if that gave time for the rebels to overthrow Emperor Albrecht... well, Alex supposed it couldn't be helped if it perforce broke Henrietta's engagement with him. How unfortunate, that.

The only thing that kept him from giving in to the temptation was the knowledge that Henrietta would despise him for it. _Is it better to be hated if it means she'll be safe, or to make sure she still thinks of me as a friend by letting her put herself at risk?_ By himself, Alex could face armies. But if the enemy breached their defenses and invaded the castle... Alex was not so sure he could protect Henrietta against so many soldiers. For all his powers, he was still only one man. One monster. A single stray bullet was all it took.

 _Idiot._ Alex ground his teeth together so hard that bits of enamel were shaved away. Why couldn't she see that he was offering her a way out? She was so caught up in this notion that she _had_ to marry Albrecht to protect her kingdom that she refused to look at any other option, even when he spelled it out for her. He recalled that time in Tristania when he was about to kill those two men in front of Henrietta. He remembered how frightened she had been. Was she too afraid to ask him to slaughter her enemies for her? Any other time, Alex would have understood and may have even appreciated the gesture; it proved that she did not think of him as a weapon, or did not want to. But right now, it was infuriating as hell.

A group of people waited for them inside the war chamber. The emperor sat at the head of a long oaken table, with an enormous map of the city and its surrounding lands spread across it. To his right was a soldierly looking type. To his left was an empty seat, and beside it was Joanna von Zerbst. Further down the table were more soldiers, a handful of other princes (including that boy Alois), Mazarin, and Marrok. Henrietta took her place beside the emperor; Alex leaned against the wall behind her. A few more people streamed into the room over the next few minutes, then the door was closed and their conference began.

"My lords and ladies," Albrecht said, standing up to greet the rest. "Thank you all for joining me here today. Unlike those traitors marching on our walls, you are all men and women of true honor. When this is all over, I swear to you all that your loyalty shall be well rewarded." His eyes hardened into black flints. "Now, on to business. My scouts report that the traitors have amassed to the south, a force somewhere between 130,000 to 150,000 strong. They bring with them a fleet of one thousand ships. At their current pace, their vanguard will be at our gates in an hour, slightly more."

"I assume they're not planning for a siege?" Joanna said.

"Unlikely, no," Albrecht agreed. "With the element of surprise gone, time is no longer on their side. Every second they delay is another second closer to our own reinforcements arriving. And they dare not leave their own territories undefended for long. They will attempt to break us by force while we are at our weakest."

"Then we ought to evacuate the city," Henrietta declared. "At least until we can link with these reinforcements."

"Impossible," Albrecht replied flatly. "Vindobona is the center of my power. It is where I store my wealth. The moment the rebels seize this city, they will have as good as won the war. We must hold the city, and we must win."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Joanna said, "but that is a tall order to ask. Too tall, perhaps. Given the size of this city, I assume you have around ten thousand men on hand at any given time."

"Thereabouts," Albrecht agreed reluctantly. "The bulk of my army is stationed in a separate fortress, two leagues away. But even by airship they will not arrive before the traitors do, not in any significant numbers at least."

"I left Anhalt with two thousand men," Joanna said. "Five hundred were lost on the way here due to pirates. Princess, as I recall you brought six hundred mage-knights with you as part of your personal guard, correct?"

"Yes, but we can add two or three hundred golems to that, if needs be."

Joanna nodded. "Eight hundred, then. As for the rest of you, my lords, this was supposed to be a peaceful celebration. I can't imagine any of you brought very many soldiers. Perhaps two hundred each, yes? That still leaves us facing a force nearly ten times our number."

"Well done, my lady," Albrecht said. "Perhaps I can hire you to teach arithmetic in the next school I decide to build."

"Enriching the minds of the younger generation is always a worthy pursuit," Joanna replied smoothly, smiling at the emperor. "But my point is this: We cannot hope to hold the city, not by simply manning the walls. Their ships and cannons will destroy us. If we wish to survive, we must be prepared to take some risks. We must meet them in the field."

"Madness," said Alois. "Forgive me, my lady. Though I am far younger than any of you here, even I can see how that road leads to only a quicker death."

"Only if we attack them head on," Joanna replied. "But with Her Highness and her knights here, we have many times more mages than they do. If we can properly leverage this advantage, then it may yet be possible to stall their advance."

"It would depend on what spells are used." Albrecht rubbed his chin and stared intently at the map. "But even something as simple as digging a long trench before the walls could buy us a significant amount of time... yes... yes, I believe it can be done. What say you, Your Highness?"

"It can. The Tristanian way of war has long since abandoned such overly forward assaults for precisely this reason," Henrietta said. "Is that not so, Cardinal?"

Mazarin nodded. "We have at our disposal enough earth mages to create a trench nearly a league long. If we conjure up a fog to hide it and then attack as they start to fall in, we can sow chaos amongst their ranks. They will think that we are many times more than we truly are, and turn against each other in fear of our shadows."

"The problem are the ships," Marrok said. "If we are outnumbered on land, I doubt we fare much better in the sky. And we did not bring any griffins, manticores, or dragons with us, Your Highness."

"I have an idea for that," Joanna declared. "We can requisition merchant ships, load them with oil and other combustibles, light them, and send them at the enemy fleet."

"They have numbers enough to absorb whatever loss we might inflict that way," Mazarin said.

"Ah, but that is not entirely true." Joanna smiled. "For you see, while these rebels may be united under a common cause, it does not mean they are united under one leader. They are a coalition of would-be kings, and none of them will want to pay more dearly for victory than the others. It is our one advantage." She gestured at the map. "Right now, they no doubt believe this to be neither a siege nor a battle. To them, this is a race with all the wealth of Vindobona as the prize. They will thus have a strong initial assault, but if we can break that, then the divisions inherent to their alliance will cause them to crumble apart."

"Then that is what we'll do," Albrecht declared. "I take it you'll agree, Your Highness?"

Alex clenched his teeth and his fingers tightened on his arms. _Don't do it. Don't do it._

"Yes, of course. That is why I'm here."

A loud breath exploded through the council. Before Alex realized what he'd done, he found that all eyes were now on him.

"Were you trying to say something?" Albrecht arched an eyebrow at Alex.

Alex glared back at him, feeling nothing but hate for those pitch black eyes. Any thought of holding himself back for Henrietta's sake fled from him then.

"Only that your plan is stupid as hell," he spat.

"Alex!" Henrietta hissed. Her eyes were so wide that they almost bulged out of their sockets.

"No, Your Highness." Albrecht held up a hand, pursing his lips into a thin, humorless smile. "Let's hear what your creature has to say. Pray, enlighten us. If you think you can."

"You think I can't?" Alex bristled.

Albrecht shrugged. "I have a nephew, you see. He's one of the commanders of my army now, but once, when he was still but a child, I brought him with me to a council much like this one so that he could learn the ways of war. He thought himself wise for knowing what few lessons his tutor imparted upon him, and thought to put his own opinion forward before the generals. Well, it's a very good thing that we got him a new tutor after that, else he would not be a commander in my army today."

"Then I'm sure you can tell me what you plan on doing when they split their armies," Alex retorted. He took some satisfaction in the way Albrecht's teeth clicked shut. Taking advantage of the opening, Alex pressed forward. "The defense you have planned only works if the enemy makes a single concentrated push. But they're not going to do that. You said it yourself" – he nodded at Joanna – "this is a race. They each want to be the first to breach the city, so they're not going to patiently wait in line behind someone else."

"I am aware of that," Joanna replied. "But as I said, we must be willing to accept certain risks if we wish to survive."

"The only thing you'll do is bleed them," Alex snapped back. "You're still going to die either way. You want my advice? Take your men and leave. Go home."

"Alex, that's enough," Henrietta said sharply.

Alex whirled on her, and snarled, "It's _not_ enough. It's not enough, because you _still don't get it._ This war is meaningless to you. You don't get anything out of staying here. If you lose, you'll die. But even if you manage to win, do you really think that _he_ " – Alex jerked his thumb at the emperor – "will be in any position to protect Tristain from Reconquista afterward?"

"What choice do you think I have?" Henrietta blurted out. _The choice I gave you!_ Alex nearly screamed back at her, but before he could say a word, Henrietta's eyes went wide and her hands shot up to cover her mouth. She turned and bowed her head before the emperor. "My apologies, Your Majesty. A familiar's misconduct is their master's responsibility. If you'll excuse us for a moment, I will chastise him personally."

"No," Albrecht growled, his shoulders trembling. "This goes beyond mere misconduct. His rudeness is a crime against the crown itself. I want his head on a spike."

"Try it, if you think you can," Alex growled back. "But if you do, you'll find that the army coming after you is the least of your concern."

"Are you threatening me?" Albrecht said incredulously.

"I'm giving you a warning. It's the only one you'll get."

"I am the emperor of Germania," Albrecht declared. "I command tens of thousands of men and can summon enough guns to lay low entire castles. I have ships to darken the skies and cannons to devastate the earth. My runic name is the Inferno, for the strength of the fire I wield. Tell me, you brutish creature, who do you think you are next to me? What do _you_ have?"

"I have you," Alex replied. "In this room. With me."

The silence that followed was deafening. No one moved. No one spoke. No one so much as dared to _breathe._ It was as if the world had been frozen in this one moment, and the only sign that time continued to pass was the ever growing redness of Albrecht's face.

"Guards!" the emperor finally shouted. "Arrest him."

Two men armed with muskets entered the room. They grabbed Alex by the shoulders and tried to drag him away, but Alex did not so much as budge. It was as if he were blissfully unaware of their presence. He approached the emperor, dragging the straining guards behind him. Albrecht drew his wand. Alex's fingers lengthened into sword-like claws.

"I'm taking Henrietta back to Tristain," Alex said, every word hanging on a knife's edge. "Leave her out of your war."

"She's my wife-to-be," Albrecht said quietly. "She and her knights will stay here, with me."

Alex waited for Albrecht to make the first move, daring him to do so with his eyes. Yet the emperor refused to budge and only mirrored him, waiting and waiting for Alex to strike, his wand held in a firm yet relaxed grip at his side. Both were ready to spring to action in an instant. But then the door to the council room swung wide open, and a breathless soldier spilled inside. Everyone's head instantly snapped to the side.

"Your Majesty," the soldier wheezed. "Dust clouds in the distance... ships above... the enemy... the enemy is almost here!"

Albrecht nodded. "I'll deal with you later," he promised Alex. "For now, I have a war to win." He sheathed his wand and turned on his heel. "Sir Marrok, Lady Joanna, I'll ask the two of you to come help me lead the troops."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Joanna said. She threw a curious expression at Alex, then followed the emperor and the knight out the door. The rest followed after her, until there was only Alex, Henrietta, and Mazarin left in the room.

"Alex, what were you thinking!?" Henrietta exploded. "You threatened to kill the emperor! _The emperor!_ "

Alex shrugged. "I was thinking that you're better off without him. You don't need him. You don't even like him. You shouldn't have to marry him."

"Your Highness, I warned you," Mazarin waggled a finger at her, "I _warned_ you that he is ill fit to be your familiar."

"Be silent, Cardinal," Henrietta snapped. "Alex, do you realize that you may have just provoked a war between Tristain and Germania?"

"Doubtful," Alex snorted. "Like I said, he's not going to be in any position to fight after this war is over, even if he manages to win."

"Then you have doomed Tristain to face Reconquista alone."

"Oh for... how many times do I have to fucking tell you?" Alex said irritably. "I'll deal with Reconquista. If they set a single foot in Tristania, I'll kill them."

"If you can really do such a thing, why not prove it by stopping that army out there?" Mazarin said pointedly.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Alex snarled. "You think I don't see what game you're playing here, old man? You've wanted me dead from the very first."

"So you admit you'd die if you tried?"

"Enough!" Henrietta shoved her way between them and pushed them apart. "You both bicker like children. Our enemies are out there, not in here. So make peace."

"As you command, Your Highness," Mazarin said stiffly.

"Hmph." Alex snorted and turned away from them.

"Cardinal, if you could leave us for a moment," Henrietta said sternly. "I would have words with Alex."

"Princess..."

"This is an order."

"Yes, Your Highness," Mazarin sighed. He bowed and left the room.

Henrietta glared at Alex. "I said before that your concern for me is touching, and I have not changed my mind on that," she said, "but I do _not_ appreciate you trying to manipulate me like this. Not when I carry the fate of my country on my shoulders."

Alex stared back at her, and slowly realization dawned upon him. "You don't believe me," he said. "You don't believe that I can stop Reconquista on my own."

Sighing, Henrietta glanced away from him. "I do believe you. Truly, I do. But the war you fought in your world is so unlike what we face here. You did not have an entire nation to protect. You were able to pick and choose your battles as you pleased. And what's more, what if you're wrong? What if I sent you to face Reconquista and you failed? Worse still, what if you died? How can I possibly gamble with your life and Tristain's fate like that, all for my own selfish reasons? I cannot. I will not. Do not ask that of me."

"You need proof," Alex said. "All right. If I stop the rebels, will you end your engagement with Albrecht?"

"If I say yes, you would try to do it." Henrietta shook her head. "No. I will not end my engagement to the emperor."

Alex spat out a curse and slammed his fist on the table, gouging out a chunk of wood which splintered on the floor. "Fine," he snarled. "Do as you like."

Without waiting for a reply, Alex turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him as he went.


	21. Germania: Part 11

**Chapter 21**

When he saw the red flare shooting up into the sky, King Franz knew that the very worst had come to pass. It was the signal he and his son had agreed upon to let their allied forces know that the guards had been subdued and the gates to the city had been opened. That it had gone off far earlier than planned meant only one thing: they had been discovered, and they needed to move _now._

Despite the urgency of the situation, King Franz did not immediately move. He continued to stare at the red flare as it rose higher and higher into the sky, before finally bursting into a crimson flower. At the same time, it felt like everything in his belly sank deeper and deeper, falling through his feet and straight to the core of the earth.

 _Dammit. Dammit. Dammit!_ King Franz ground his teeth together. Anger and despair congealed into a confused mess inside of him. He had told his son, _told him,_ that it was too dangerous sending him into the city with only a handful of guards, but no. His son refused to listen to him. "If the plan is to succeed," Nagel had said, "then it is imperative that Albrecht remains unaware until the very last second. If we do not at least send a member of the prince's family as a representative, he will surely grow suspicious."

King Franz had seen the wisdom of his son's words, though even then he did not like it. Still, he decided to trust his son and let him carry the burden.

 _And what a fool I am for doing so._

Gritting his teeth, King Franz tore himself away from the signal and turned to his general. "Send word to the other kings," King Franz said. "It's time to go."

Soon, the beating of drums, the pounding of hooves and feet, and the creaking of wheels filled the air. It was something King Franz had grown used to over his long years of life, but it still struck him just how _loud_ an army could be when on the move. It was a fact of life that Nagel, in all likelihood, would never get to learn.

From the rear of his army, King Franz cast a distant eye out towards the still far-off walls of Vindobona. A poisonous whisper in the back of his mind asked, "Was it really worth it? To lose your eldest son so that you may gain a crown?" But King Franz shook his head and drove such thoughts away.

It was never about the crown. Although he had used promises of sovereignty to gain allies, he had never personally cared about becoming king or emperor or whatever else. All he had ever wanted was for his people to thrive and be happy, and for his son to rule over a rich, prosperous land. But Albrecht, greedy Albrecht, abused his power as emperor and split the empire in two even before they decided to rebel. For upon being elected emperor, Albrecht imposed taxes on those who had refused to vote for him, while his supporters were either untaxed or had to bear a tax so meager that it was near nothing at all. And those that were forced to suffer his greed? At the time there was nothing they could do about it. They were still divided then, and had no choice but to pay obediently.

Well, King Franz could no longer accomplish half of what he had wanted, but the other half still remained. Knowing the ruthlessness of Albrecht, there was no doubt Nagel was already dead. In that case, using his sacrifice, King Franz would achieve independence and lead his people to prosperity.

And in this coming battle, he would also personally drive a sword straight through Albrecht's heart. This he swore.

* * *

Henrietta stood on the roof of the highest tower of Emperor Albrecht's palace. Her knuckles were white against the battlement, as she gripped the stone so hard that she was sure it might have shattered underneath her. Far off in the distance, beyond the outermost walls of the city, the combined Germanian-Tristanian force marched out of the gates. From this far away, they reminded Henrietta of sand spilling out of a broken hourglass. They paled in comparison to the massive force that approached them like the rising tide of the ocean.

A number of other nobles and even a few princes stood on the tower with her. They spoke in whispers with each other. Fear was palpable in the air. No one knew what the outcome of this battle would be, and more than a few were undoubtedly making plans for escape. Mazarin conjured up a farseeing spell for Henrietta, causing the moisture in the air to concentrate into a lens the size of her head in front of her.

Emperor Albrecht was leading the troops from the rear. A wise move, Henrietta thought. She had always been taught that there was a certain value in a general that led from the front, as it helped bolster the morale of the troops and facilitated the easy relaying of his orders. But in this coming battle, all would be lost the moment the emperor fell.

Henrietta grimaced. The enemy was moving almost exactly as Alex had said they would. Their forces spread wide across the field, moving to encircle their troops and wash over the city itself. Sir Marrok brought the Tristanian mage-knights to the fore, and as one every water mage cast the same simple dot-level spell. It was not a star-class spell, but through sheer force of numbers they blanketed the entire battlefield in an impenetrable cloud of mist.

For a moment then Henrietta allowed herself to feel a little hopeful. Seeing once more the proof of an army of mages' power made her think that not only was this battle not so lost, but perhaps they might even hold the advantage. But the Germanians, for all they lacked in mages, did not lack in experience _fighting_ mages.

They did not move as one, for the rebels were not so united as to accomplish that. Yet every rebel king and general came to the same conclusion independently, and as soon as the mist formed, horns and drums boomed across the battlefield and the entire army pulled back from the mist.

The airships came sailing in then. Their cannons opened up from the hidden ports on their bellies, giving the ships the resemblance of an upside down porcupine. Those gunmetal quills unleashed thunder, and salvo after salvo of hot iron and gunpowder screamed downwards.

Henrietta's heart leaped to her throat. Nothing could survive such an onslaught. But as the mist cleared, Henrietta saw that there was nothing at all on the ground.

Sir Marrok's instincts were praiseworthy. He could not have possibly seen the ships through the mist, yet he had still predicted their coming. The entire Tristanian contingent had taken to earth – literally. It was only when the cannons quieted that the mages emerged from the ground, like plants sprouting from the dirt.

But Henrietta's relief was short lived. Sir Marrok did the unthinkable. Outnumbered as they were, still he dared to split the knights into four. Those specializing in the element of earth remained in the center. They raised up huge golems and sent them crashing forward through the hail of gunfire. Those of the element of wind took to the sky. Theirs was the most important job, for they needed to stop the airships before they could unleash a second fusillade of cannon fire. The third and fourth groups were a mixed group of fire and water. They broke off to the flanks in order to aid the imperialists, who struggled to push back the far more numerous rebel troops.

With blasts of fire and water, blades of wind and constructs of earth, the Tristanians fought. Though their numbers were few, their sheer presence turned them into the center of a storm. The rebels swarmed them from every side, knowing that if they could _just_ cast these brave men low, then the battle would be all but won. And though the knights fought valiantly, slowly but surely they were falling. In the end, even the greatest of mages could be defeated through simple math.

In the sky, there too the battle was turning for the worse. A mage's power was unquestionable, but the dragon riders they faced were much swifter than they were. Wind blades and lightning bolts were evaded with equal ease, and for every one dragon that was felled, two mages dropped from the sky. There were some who managed to make it to the ships, where they were immediately set upon by the crew. Most were forced to turn back.

Strangely, however, Sir Marrok did not appear at all concerned. Even as the tide of battle turned against them, his was the very face of confidence. He stood at the center of the battlefield with only one other mage at his side. Henrietta recognized him as Sir Marrok's brother-in-law, though she could not quite remember his name. Anthony or Antoine, maybe. Henrietta's eyes widened as she realized what the pair were doing: they were preparing a true star-class spell, and the very air around them seemed to rumble with power.

As one they lifted their wands into the air, and a bolt of lightning so massive as to dwarf anything Henrietta had ever seen before tore its way through the sky. The thunder of its passing was simply deafening. Even from here Henrietta was forced to cover her ears and winced; she could only imagine what it must have been like for those standing closer to the mages. Henrietta reckoned it must have been almost as bad as the wooden airships unfortunate enough to be in the Sir Marrok and his brother's sight. Indeed, as the thunderclap forced a brief lull to the war, white-hot claws tore apart the ships' hulls like so much cloth.

Here it was, the power that humanity had conceived to do battle against the elves. Briefly, Henrietta couldn't help but to wonder just how dreadful the elves truly were if not even something like this was enough to vanquish them. But that thought passed as quickly as it came, for events continued to unravel before her very eyes.

Commandeered ships of every shape and size, each loaded with combustibles, rose up from within the walls of Vindobona. Some were merchant ships. Some belonged to the nobles of the city. Some were the emperor's very own pleasure ships. Each and every single one of them sailed through the air towards the enemy fleet.

Their intent was surely obvious. Even those few ships that had once carried artillery no longer did. Everything that could be removed, was removed. Speed was the only consideration, and the flame was the only weapon they needed.

The rebel ships fired again, but this time horizontally rather than vertically. Many fire ships were destroyed before they could reach the enemy, mercifully crashing to the ground outside the walls. But many more managed to reach their targets by rising up past the angle of fire and then dropping down on them from above. Against such size and weight, the rebel dragon riders could do nothing to protect their ships. Nor could their smaller ships do anything to stop such suicide attacks short of ramming into them to force them to angle away.

Despite this, the flow of battle did not change. There was some panic, yes, but the line of ships stretched so far that the fire could not spread as much as they had hoped. Nor could Sir Marrok and Antoine strike them all down with thunder and lightning. And now with most of their hidden tricks exhausted, the battle had devolved into a simple game of attrition.

Emperor Albrecht sensed this, and promptly sounded the call for retreat. As they pulled back, hundreds of earth mages worked in tandem to rip open a huge crevice between the city and the rebel army. Even if they had mages of their own, it would take time for the rebels to create a bridge large enough to bring their army back to bear, or to circle around it entirely. For now, the allied forces could focus all of their attention on the airships looming up ahead.

By now the vanguard of their reinforcements had arrived. Soldiers mounted on the backs of small dragons and wyverns had come flying in from the west. Together with the Tristanian mage-knights, they once more assailed the enemy fleet. But though the battle had begun not long ago, the fighting had been strenuous and the allied dragon riders had flown here without rest, at top speed. They were all exhausted. The rebel fleet, on the other hand, despite their losses was still full of energy, and they fought back viciously. Men and beast alike dropped from the air like flies, and the airships continued to plow forward inexorably.

A rain of flame and iron was unleashed upon the city. The citizens had already been evacuated inside the inner walls, but the sight of Vindobona quickly going up in flames was still disheartening. And as the city burned, Henrietta couldn't help but to turn away from the sight of it all. Regret filled her mouth, a bile the crawled up from the pit of her stomach. These were not her people, yet her heart went out to them nevertheless. Even should they somehow survive this war, how many years would it take for them to recover and rebuild? And her knights... her brave knights... how many wives and children would grieve for fathers lost on foreign soil? For a war they had never asked for or wanted? Doubt crept into her heart.

Had her decision to stay really been the correct one?

Henrietta could not bear it any longer. She fled from the rooftop, down the stairs and halls, and ran and ran and ran, to where she did not know. All she wanted now was to get away from all of this, until she finally collapsed to the floor. But it was not the shortness of breath or her burning muscles that made her fall; it was the weight of the crown on her head, crushing her underneath its iron heel.

She did not know how long she knelt there, her head bowed, but the sound of war had become a distant thing to her. There must have been a great many people looking for her, but it was only when she felt that certain warmness in her chest and surety in her mind that she knew someone had finally found her.

"You must think me a great fool," she said softly, a voice barely higher than a whisper. "Had I listened to you, all of this might have been avoided."

For a moment Alex did not speak. He loomed over her silently. Henrietta could not bring herself to look up into his eyes. What would she find there? Anger? Blame? Or the reflection of her own guilt and shame?

"There was a chance," he finally said, not unkindly. "I underestimated your knights. You _could_ have won."

"But we didn't, and now we must all pay the price." Henrietta looked up, and her cheeks were wet with tears. What she found there was neither anger nor blame nor guilt nor shame. There was only an honest sympathy. Somehow that made her feel so much worse. "All I ever wanted was for the peace and happiness of my people," she said. "Even if I had to swallow my regrets, cast aside my own dreams, I was prepared for it all. But I have accomplished nothing here save to throw away the lives of all the loyal knights who fought on my command. I should have judged the odds better. I should have sought some other way to secure Tristain from Reconquista. Or else I should have have come up with a better plan than this, one that could have saved both my knights and the people of this city. That I could not is because I am inept. I should have... I should have never been born the princess." Her head drooped. "I am unfit to rule."

Alex crouched down in front of her. Slowly, awkwardly, he reached out and brushed the tears away from her face. Despite everything, Henrietta couldn't help but to smile when she saw the discomfort on his face. It was clear that this was something he had never done before, nor something he was particularly keen on doing ever again. Yet he did so regardless.

"You're not still angry?" she asked.

"No," Alex replied. Henrietta stared at him until he finally sighed and rolled his eyes at her. "A little, yes. You were stupid. Headstrong. Stubborn..."

"Those two are the same thing," Henrietta interjected.

"... but you're wrong if you think you're unfit to rule," Alex continued, pushing past her words.

"What do you mean?" Henrietta asked, her eyes growing wide.

Alex tried to withdraw his hand from her face, but Henrietta quickly reached up and grabbed hold of it, keeping it there pressed against her cheek. Alex sighed, but did not fight it.

"I told you before how I was made, didn't I?" he said. "A government experiment made to create a weapon to target people they didn't like. If you ask me, it's monsters like them who shouldn't be rulers. You're different. You're not like them. You're kind, maybe too much so. There will be people who will try to take advantage of that quality of yours until the day you die. But you know what? I think the world would be a hell of a lot better place if there were more people like you in charge. People who care about others. People who try to do what's right by everyone, not just for themselves. Someone not like Albrecht or those rebels... or me." Alex glanced away, the look in his eyes almost wistful. "I think I'd want to see a world like that one day."

"As would I," Henrietta said.

"Mm," Alex grunted. "You mind letting go of my hand now?"

"No." Henrietta giggled. "I think not."

Rolling his eyes, Alex pried his hand free from Henrietta's grasp, and she let out a little angry noise of displeasure. Then she sighed, and looked out a nearby window.

"With that said, it seems increasingly unlikely that I will be able share that view with you."

"I can still get you away from here," Alex said. "It's not too late."

"You would have me abandon my knights, after I sent them into war? You would have me abandon them to their deaths just so that I may yet live to see another day?" Henrietta shook her head. "If I did that, then I would no longer be that person you believe me to be."

"But you would be alive. That's the most important thing."

"Alive in every way but the one that matters," Henrietta replied. "It would kill my soul, Alex. I would be forced to live with the shame of being a coward. Worse, a selfish coward. The kind that would gladly sell out her most loyal and faithful friends or even her own family just for a few more hours of breath."

"Then don't run. Decide right here and now that you're going to stay and fight, no matter what happens. That way, when I take you back to Tristain, you can blame it all on me."

Before Henrietta could react, Alex scooped her up by the waist, holding her bodily in the air underneath his arm. Henrietta did not resist, knowing how futile it would be to try to match him in a contest of of physical might. Instead, she simply said, "If you do this to me, Alex, then I think I will hate you."

Alex froze for a bare instant. His jaws clenched together so tightly that Henrietta could see the muscles spasm there. His eyes narrowed, and a guttural growl rose up from his throat.

"I know."

Then he continued walking.

"I'm sorry," Henrietta said. "That wasn't fair. But neither is what you are doing now."

"So sue me."

"I doubt you would respect a summons to court."

"I wouldn't."

"How truly unfair. By the way, Alex?"

"What?"

"We have passed by many windows already. If you intend on leaving the palace, why have you not gone through any of them?"

"Draws too much attention," Alex answered gruffly. "Don't want to deal with people chasing after us."

"Is that truly it?" Henrietta pressed him. "Or perhaps you are waiting for me to say something that will change your mind?"

"Yeah, right," Alex snorted. "If you really think you can, then go ahead and try."

"Very well," Henrietta said. "I do not believe you wish to be hated, not by me or anyone else. I believe you are a better man than you believe yourself to be. A true monster would not be able to recognize the immorality of his own actions. He would not be able to look upon all that he has done and feel regret or sorrow."

"I tore Manhattan apart just so I could punish the people I thought were responsible for turning me into what I am," Alex snarled. "I killed hundreds of people, thousands, with my own two hands, and I'm responsible for the deaths of millions more."

"And yet you still want to see a better world than that," Henrietta said. "Halkeginia... is not perfect, as you can clearly see. And I do not know if it will ever become that better world you spoke of... but there will never be a chance for such a world to come to be if you continue to act in this way."

Alex stopped again, and this time he did not move.

"That was just a fantasy," Alex said dismissively. "As long as there are good people, there will always be monsters waiting to prey on them."

"Perhaps, but it is a wonderful dream nonetheless. One well worth fighting for."

"Fight all you want. But to do that, you need to get out of here alive first."

"What is it that you want, Alex?" Henrietta said. "You say that you want a fantasy to be real, yet you refuse to fight for it. You care for me, I believe, yet you would have me become someone I do not wish to be. What is it that you want? Tell me true. Tell me all. And if I am convinced of your reasons, then I swear to you now I will go back to Tristain without a fight."

Alex stopped at last. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His thoughts were troubled, Henrietta could plainly see, and when his mouth opened, his words were slow and deliberate.

"There's something I've been thinking about, ever since I woke up here," he said. "No, maybe it was even before that. I'm not human, not anymore. Or maybe I never was. But I can still think like humans do. I can still feel as humans do. And maybe all that's just the memories I stole from everyone I consumed, but however I got them, they're still mine now. So tell me, Henrietta. Where does someone – some _thing_ – like me fit in? Where is it that I belong?"

"Alex, you've had the answer to that since the moment I summoned you. Have you forgotten?" Henrietta smiled up at him. "You are my familiar and my friend. And so long as I live, you shall always have a place at my side."

Alex mulled over her words in silence. Then, at last, he set her down on her feet. Henrietta rubbed her stomach, where all her weight had been pressing into Alex's arm. "Oh, much better."

"Fine," Alex said, sighing. "You win. I won't force you to go back home. So just promise me one thing."

"What is it?"

Alex turned his head towards the direction of the battle, and narrowed his eyes. They were closer now. The song of war could once more be clearly heard through the halls.

"Whatever happens now," he said, "you won't change how you think about me."

Henrieta nodded, and said, "I promise."

* * *

The battle wasn't going as well as King Franz had hoped. Although it was only temporary, the fact that those damnable Tristanian mages had managed to halt the advance of their allied kings' ground forces was troubling. King Franz worried over whether they could circumvent the crevice before imperial reinforcements arrived. The chasm was vast, stretching on for miles in a straight line before the gates of Vindobona. Should they fail, it would destroy any chance they had of bringing this war to a swift conclusion, or at least any chance of doing so without incurring heavy casualties on their side.

 _Perhaps I should be glad that our air fleet, at least, remains unhindered._ King Franz looked up to the sky. The underside of their ships were like great wooden clouds, so many that they smothered the blue, and the roar of their cannons was the song of thunder. With every salvo they unleashed, men were blown away from the walls of Vindobona, and their own artillery, emplaced upon the battlements, simply could not shoot high enough to retaliate.

Yet no matter how overwhelming their fleet was, ultimately they needed men in the city in order to capture it. "Send word to the other kings," King Franz ordered his aide, who stood beside him dutifully. "We must discuss how to proceed."

"At once, Your Majesty." The aide sprinted away, disappearing into the sea of bodies that surrounded them. King Franz retired to his command tent to await the other kings, sitting at his place at a perfectly round table carved from polished red oak.

When they at last arrived and were all seated with him, King Franz stood up and began to speak.

"My fellow kings," he said. "We have precious little time to waste, so I shall state it simply: we need a way to cross that crevice, and we must have it now."

"A bridge," King Wilhelm answered promptly. "There is no other way to get our armies across quickly enough."

"And where do you propose we get the wood we need for that?" King Horst scoffed. "The nearest forest is leagues away. It would be faster to just go around the crevice than waste time sending men to gather timber."

"Damn those mages," King Jurgen swore. "If only we had as many such mages of our own, we could have simply created a bridge of earth and stone."

"We must look to what we do have, not what we do not," King Franz advised him.

"And if you cannot do that, then at least have the dignity to keep such fantasies to yourself," King Horst said derisively. "Jurgen the Dreamer. Brimir save us."

"What solution have you to offer, then?" King Jurgen shot back.

"The ships." King Horst folded his hands on the table and glared back at the other king. "There is no other way. We must land the ships and use them to ferry our troops across the crevice."

"Ha!" King Jurgen slapped the table and laughed mockingly. "It would be better to send men to the forest, in that case. How long do you think it will take for our ships to carry our men back and forth, back and forth? How willing are you to risk putting them within range of the enemy cannons when they land?"

The exchange became more heated. King Horst, his face flushed a bright tomato red, stood up and began pointing fingers and insults at King Jurgen. Jurgen, not wanting to be outdone, stood up as well and shouted back at him. Tensions were flaring, and it seemed soon that both would draw their sword and wand at any moment.

"My fellow kings," King Otto boomed suddenly. His voice was so deep and loud that it was not unlike standing next to a loud, large drum. His voice reached deep into your bones, making you shake. " _Kings!_ Yes, you are both kings, as am I. Such behavior as this befits only small children. I ask you, for the sake of dignity, to sit down and hear my words."

King Horst and King Jurgen both looked at King Otto, then glanced around the table and saw that everyone was staring at them. Faces flushing again, this time from embarrassment rather than anger, they silently sat down. King Otto smiled genially at them both.

"If I may say, Your Majesties," King Otto said, "I believe you are all blind to the obvious solution."

"Pray, enlighten us then," King Franz said.

"We must have lumber to construct a bridge, yet the forest is too far? To use our ships to carry our men is too slow and dangerous?" King Otto smiled. "Why, I say we already have all the lumber we need. Great piles of them hang over our heads as we speak, do they not?"

"Our ships?" King Franz said. A murmur went around the table. King Franz was not the only one whose brow furrowed in consternation. To construct a bridge of sufficient size by means of this plan, they would need to either scuttle a great many of their smaller warships or a few of their great man-of-wars. Either one was a bitter pill to swallow, as their fleet was a symbol of a king's strength, and of immense expense besides. Yet once he moved past that initial feeling of revulsion, King Franz could begin to see the genius that lay behind King Otto's proposal. There was only one problem. "Whose ships shall we use?"

The kings looked at each other.

"King Horst," King Jurgen said, a sly smile crossing his lips. "You possess the greatest number of ships. Will you not rise up to the task so that we may vanquish our hated foe?"

"You slimy weasel," King Horst snapped. "If we do this, then we must all contribute to the cause. I propose we each give up at least five man-of-wars or twenty other ships."

"Preposterous!" King Wilhelm shouted. "There is no need to give up that many of our ships. You would attempt to weaken us now, on the eve of our victory for your own selfish ends?"

"If I am selfish, than what are you for demanding I take the burden alone?" King Wilhelm retorted.

" _KINGS,_ " King Otto boomed again. "You did not let me finish. As I proposed the plan, it will be my ships that we use for this task. In return," King Otto smiled, "you will all surrender half of Vindobona's wealth to me."

"Half!" King Horst seethed. "It is too much."

"It is well and good," King Otto replied. "I shall need at least that much to cover the costs."

"I agree," King Franz said, cutting off the others before they could protest any further. "Now is not the time for bickering. We must take Vindobona before the imperial army arrives. King Otto is graciously offering to surrender his own ships to facilitate our passage. We ought not begrudge him the appropriate price for it, for are we gathered here to fight for our freedom or for the meager wealth of a single city?"

"A single city of an empire's wealth," King Horst muttered. "Oh, very well. King Otto will have the right to pluck the choicest fruits, as he pleases. Aye."

"Aye," King Jurgen said grudgingly.

"Aye," said the other kings.

"Then let us not waste any more time here," King Franz declared. "We move at once."

Mere minutes later, King Franz stood outside on a small hillock, overlooking the clearing they had made to dismantle the rows of ships that now sat anchored on the ground. While the rest of the fleet provided covering fire, their engineers set to work constructing a series of five separate bridges, each one wide enough to allow five wagons to drive abreast across it.

 _Soon, my son._ King Franz gripped the pommel of his sword, sheathed at his hip, while his other hand tightened into a fist around his wand. Sparks of electricity danced at its tip. _Soon the emperor will pay for his crimes, as will your treacherous little brother. And then our people will be free._

If there was one other regret King Franz had besides the death of his eldest son, it was his failure to kill Princess Henrietta. Bringing her head to Reconquista would have been the coin and the mortar to solidify an alliance with the rising power of the era – an alliance that would have secured his kingdom's future. For King Franz knew that once their rebellion was won, what would follow would be an age of chaos. At first there would be peace, as each king took their time to lick their wounds. Then they would begin to look to their neighbors for land and treasure. This was why he had been more than happy to acquiesce to King Otto's demands. Half the wealth of Vindobona would be more than enough to rebuild his fleet three times over, and no other king would be pleased with that. King Otto had painted a target on his own back, writ in gold.

Unfortunately, that plan had failed. He would need to come up with another to secure his kingdom's future. But that was a problem for another time; for now he needed to focus on the battle ahead. And if there was one other concern he had for this battle now, it was that someone else might kill Albrecht before he could. King Franz considered this dilemma for a moment. Although he wanted to be the one who personally drove a sword through that man's heart, the notion that the great emperor of Germania might perish at the end of a commoner's spear was... well, it was rather appealing in its own right. He decided then that he would make whosoever laid the killing blow on the emperor a great lord of his realm, regardless of birth or station.

King Franz swept his eyes across the horizon of the battlefield. As his eyes moved past the gates, he thought he saw something dark and small flit past the edge of his vision. He waved his hand, thinking at first it to be nothing more than a fly or a gnat that had come too close. But then there was a great crashing noise, and the harsh bellow of a horn split the air in warning.

King Franz's head snapped back to the side. One of the bridges had collapsed, sinking into the crevice. An accident? No. King Franz motioned for an aide to bring him a telescope. Peering through the glass, he saw a man climb out of the chasm, covered in bits of wood and splinters. He shook himself off, like a dog shedding water, and then his hands and arms _changed,_ becoming a thick solid mass of blackened flesh, if indeed flesh was what it still was. His fists were enormous, more akin to the heads of sledgehammers than anything else. And when that man... _creature_ jumped, for a moment King Franz thought it was flying.

The creature landed on the next closest bridge, its fists smashing through the wooden skeleton with untold ease. Within seconds it had demolished its critical support beams, causing it to collapse entirely. That was the source of the crashing noise from before, King Franz realized dimly. At the same time, he found his mouth opening, seemingly of its own accord, to roar, "Stop that thing!"

The message was relayed via drums to his captains and commanders. The great host of the allied kings began converging upon this single creature, who seemed almost indifferent to the fact that it was about to be surrounded. But once the soldiers came to a certain distance, the creature suddenly whirled, its arm, now a bladed tentacle, sweeping aside the men like chaff before the scythe. Bile rose up in King Franz's throat, as the ground around the creature became a sea of blood, almost every man within it having been bisected at the waist.

The creature moved on, destroying the next bridge, and the next, and then the last. Any man that approached was cut down immediately, and when they attempted to shoot the creature from a range, its entire body became girded in a black armor, not unlike an insect's shell, and their musket balls seemed to do little more than bounce off of it.

"Order the men to pull back," King Franz shouted. "Bring the ships around. Use the cannons on it!"

The drummer nodded. _Boom-boom-bo-bo-boom,_ his drums went, a rhythm that was soon echoed by other drummers so that its message could be effectively relayed across the battlefield.

The creature was diving further into the army now. It cut down one man after another, but more than that it did not simply leave the corpses behind to rot. No, it devoured them. Tendrils grew from its body to suck in the soldiers' corpses, absorbing them into its own flesh. And though the sight horrified King Franz, there was a small part of him that was gladdened for it. It was slowing its own pace down just so it could feed. And now the ships had turned around and had their cannons aimed straight down at it.

As one, the ships fired. So many cannonballs fired down that, more than the dull thud of iron meeting earth, there was the metallic clang of cannonballs piling up on the ground. A cloud of dust enveloped that part of the battlefield, and King Franz squinted his eyes to try to make out the shapes inside.

An eerie silence befell the battlefield. It was as if not a single soul dared to move or even breathe as they waited for the dust to settle. Then, for a brief instant, there was this horrible squelching noise, like slabs of wet meat being slapped down on a cutting board, and then black tentacles tore the dust cloud apart.

The tentacles shot out in every direction, each one as thick as a spear. They ripped apart everything they touched, shredding bodies and armor and weapons alike. And they went upwards as well, reaching for the ships far above. Most remained out of the tentacles' reaches, but the ones that had descended to better aim for the creature were well within its range. The tentacles stabbed through the hulls, coiled up and around their masts, and when the creature retracted all of its extra appendages, it dragged the ships down with them.

The great wooden beasts descended, uttering one last dying groan. The crash must have triggered the stores of gunpowder inside, for they were soon set ablaze. The growing crackling noise of burning wood became the only sound they could hear, as once more silence held sway over the battlefield.

King Franz slowly looked around. The world was so red that he could barely even begin to count how many had died. There must have been at least a thousand. Maybe two or even three. Only those who remained furthest away from the creature had survived. The coppery smell of blood was so thick that more than one such survivor keeled over and vomited.

Then a horn sounded, and another and another. Drums echoed as well. The sound of retreat. But few men heeded them; most had already turned and began running away. There was no order, only a rout. No, not a rout. For a rout implied that this had been a battle between humans. What this was, was the panicked fleeing of a prey before its predator.

Someone seized King Franz by the arm, causing him to jump, but it was only his aide.

"Sire," he said. "We must leave, quickly."

King Franz blinked at him for a moment, but then regained control of himself and nodded. "Quickly," he agreed. "Order a full retreat."

"It's coming after us!" someone cried out. King Franz looked to find that the creature was already tearing its way through his army, making a beeline towards...

King Franz's eyes widened.

… towards him.

"What does it want from me?" King Franz cried out. The creature was even ignoring the other kings and their armies, though several had been closer to it. "Men! To me!"

But what few who had the wherewithal to obey could not stop what an entire army had failed to hold back. The creature was here, throwing aside the guards with a contemptuous swing of its arms. It grabbed King Franz by the throat and brought his face close to its, glaring deep into the king's eyes. In its eyes was nothing but hate.

"So the emperor still possessed such a weapon in his arsenal," King Franz said. To say that he was calm would have been incorrect. He was numb. Every part of him had lost feeling. Even when he spoke it was as if someone else was moving his mouth for him. The only thing he was truly aware of were his own short, shallow breaths and that death was upon him.

The creature growled, deep and guttural. "I'm not his weapon."

"You're a monster."

The creature's hand tightened. "I am," it replied, before driving its steely claws straight through his chest.

King Franz gasped as hot pain blossomed across his chest, before the creature pulled its claws out and a coldness took over instead. King Franz clutched his open wounds, wobbling about unsteadily on his feet. He stumbled back a few steps and looked from his body to the creature, who stared back at him coldly. And then, in some distant part of King Franz's dying mind, a memory was drudged up to the surface. It was a small thing, a byline he had until now forgotten. A single sentence in a weekly report sent to him by his spies in Tristain, informing him of the princess's excursion to the Academy of Tristain. Her summoning of a familiar. A familiar the spy described as most strange and terrible. And then realization struck him.

"You..." King Franz lifted his arm to point accusingly at the creature. Gods, since when had his arm been so heavy? "You're her familiar."

And then he fell, and spoke no more.

* * *

 _Author's Notes:_

 _Can anyone explain to me why someone would leave a review in_ Spanish _on a fic written in English? I'm pretty confident I've never once indicated that I know how to speak or read Spanish, and if you're reading this fic, then surely you must be able to understand English. I'm just so confused by this. :S  
_


	22. Germania: Part 12 (End)

**Chapter 22**

The battle was over. The rebels were in full retreat, and only the crows and the workers collecting the corpses for the mass graves remained on the battlefield.

But no cries of victory could be heard within the walls of Vindobona, nor in the great feasting halls of its sprawling palace where the high princes and lords of the empire were gathered. There was only that creeping sense of dread, like a dark ink spilled upon a piece of parchment, its black tendrils slowly crawling across the surface. And none felt that dread more keenly than the princess Henrietta de Tristain.

In the end it was a matter of scale. Alex had told her that he was a killer who had murdered thousands; a monster that had terrorized the city of his birth, back in his own world. She had known all of that already, and until this day she thought she had understood and accepted that. But what she had not known was... well... _this._ Now she realized that she had never truly understood just _how_ monstrous he could be.

But with that realization came a choice. And that choice was the source of the dread she felt now.

Alex had asked her not to think of him any differently. He had made her swear it. Yet in the same breath he offered his strength in the defense of Tristain, so long as she refused to marry Emperor Albrecht. Did he not realize that those two things were mutually exclusive? Henrietta knew in her heart that if she started using Alex as a weapon of her nation, she would never stop. He was simply too powerful, too _convenient,_ to not make use of. She might be able to moderate the frequency of her usage of him, but completely stopping herself once she started would be all but impossible. And it was that which troubled her so.

She did not mind giving up her own freedom for the sake of her country. She mourned for it, true, but ultimately it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. But that was a decision she could make with only her own life. How could she possible demand someone else make that sacrifice in her stead, especially a friend who had been through so much with her already? Was that the type of queen she wanted to be? Was that the kind of person that she was?

The worst part of it all, Henrietta thought glumly, was that there was a part of her that was _thrilled_ by Alex's offer. Even if it meant treating him as a tool, she wanted her freedom back. She wanted the ability to choose how she lived her life back. Besides, he had been the one to make the offer, so there was no reason at all to feel guilty about accepting. She would be doing him no wrong if she unleashed him on Reconquista, should they bring war to her lands.

But those were petty justifications for petty emotions, and that was something she could neither deny nor fool herself into thinking otherwise.

 _What should I do?_ Henrietta wondered.

She glanced off to the side, where the emperor sat beside her on his throne. They were seated at the head of the hall, and at this distance she was the only one who could see that glint in his eyes, hidden as they were behind a mask of perfect calmness. What did that light mean? Was it fear? Anger? Greed? Or perhaps it was something else entirely. Henrietta didn't know. She didn't know, but when she saw him rise, lifting his silver goblet into the air, she had a feeling that she was about to find out.

"My lords of the empire and valued friends of Tristain." His voice resounded so loudly through the hall that Henrietta wondered if he had secretly cast a spell on himself to enhance his volume. "Thanks to your courage and bravery on the field, I am pleased to declare that we have won this day!"

There was a light smattering of applause. Everyone there knew that this words were empty, as hollow as a bell without its clapper. For it was not the Germanians who had won the battle, nor was it the Tristanians. It was Alex, and _only_ Alex, who had won the day. This victory belonged to him alone.

But for all that the other nations accused the Germanians of their uncouth behavior and lack of morals, these were all still men of no small amount of pride and were used to being masters of their own destiny. To be forced to acknowledge their own helplessness was a humiliation they could not bear, and Emperor Albrecht was more than eager to appease them by claiming this victory as their own.

It was probably a good thing that Alex wasn't in the room with them, Henrietta thought. For all she knew, he and the emperor might have come to blows again over the matter. She could still feel his presence nearby, however, but whether he was standing just outside the hall or else had disguised himself as someone in the room was something she could not quite discern.

"Prince Arduin of Magdesburg," Albrecht continued. "Step forward."

The prince of Anhalt stood up. Lady Joanna sat next to him. He approached the throne with his shoulders straight and chin held high. At the foot of the emperor's throne, he knelt gracefully. Then softly, so softly that she almost missed it, Henrietta heard Albrecht click his tongue, and for a moment his mask slipped to reveal his irritation.

Prince Arduin's appearance had taken them all by surprise. While the rebels were in the middle of their retreat, he and his army had seemingly come out of nowhere to strike them down. In a lightning attack, he captured three different kings and several of their generals, before marching triumphantly into the city.

"You have proven your worth as both a general and a prince of Germania this day by capturing the rebels Otto, Horst, and Jurgen," Emperor Albrecht declared. "For that, you may ask for whatever reward you wish. If it is within my power to grant, then so I shall."

It was a subtle thing, but Henrietta could tell that those words had been forced out through gritted teeth. There was a part of her that sympathized with the emperor. It was the part of her that wore the crown. If one were to be generous, they might have called Prince Arduin a cautious man. Most would simply have referred to him as an opportunist, however. Under ordinary circumstances, Emperor Albrecht might have been able to get away without rewarding the prince or even chastising him for arriving so late to the battle, but with the necessity of twisting Alex's victory as their own, he had no choice but to heap praise upon the only man who had delivered tangible results to him... even if it meant lending a wand to a powerful potential enemy. Judging by the twitch of the prince's lips, and the outright open grin on Lady Joanna's, he knew it as well.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Prince Arduin began. "The Zerbst family has always and only ever wished for the prosperity of the empire. It is by merit of our great love and loyalty to our country that we claim our place in it. But through their treachery and deceit, these three princes I captured have proven that they are no longer worthy of that privilege. And so, for my reward, I ask only the opportunity to be of even greater service to Germania. Let their territories be divided into parts, and let those parts be added to the lands of those who remained loyal to you during these troubled times. Let them be governed with honor and respect for the crown, as they should have been." Arduin smiled. "For myself, if I may be so bold, I would ask for governance over Prince Otto's lands, north of the Adeleig Mountains."

 _Oh, you are a crafty one, Your Excellency._ Henrietta couldn't help but to be impressed by the sheer audacity of the prince. But although she was fond of and indebted to Kirche and her family, she secretly hoped that the emperor would refuse.

By claiming the northern half of Prince Otto's lands, the Zerbst family would gain control of nearly the entirety of Germania's western trade routes and _all_ of the routes leading to Tristain, their most valuable trading partner. With Germania's dearth of mages, the books and enchanted items of Tristain were always in high demand here. It was mildly surprising that he had not asked for the whole of Prince Otto's territory, but Henrietta chalked that up to the prince's cunning and caution.

If he seized too much land at once, the other princes would grow jealous of his power. That jealousy would become a banner around which they could gather against him. And the emperor? Why, he would be all to happy to raise that banner for them. Together they could either force the Zerbst into giving them more and more concessions, or else drive them into a rebellion all their own. But outnumbered and overwhelmed, they would find their lands and wealth stolen from them regardless.

By sharing his reward with his peers, Prince Arduin negated that possibility. More than that, he reversed it. If Emperor Albrecht refused Arduin's request now, then the other princes would grumble over the emperor's perceived selfishness. Should he accept, they would know who it was that had added to their strength.

Indeed, the only one disadvantaged by this was the emperor himself. By reducing the number of princes in the empire and strengthening those that remained, Prince Arduin eroded some of the emperor's power, making it harder for him to control the princes in the future. For someone who had dreams of establishing a familial dynasty, this was almost a direct slap to the face for Albrecht.

Henrietta could practically _hear_ the emperor grind his teeth.

"Done." The word just barely did not come out as a snarl. If anyone noticed otherwise, they politely pretended not to. "From now and forevermore, the Prince of Anhalt shall count amongst his holdings the land north of the Adeleig Mountains. May your rule by fruitful and just, and in accordance with the laws of the crown."

For one wild moment, Henrietta wondered what their faces would look like if she stood up now and declared that Tristain would hereby be ending all existing trade agreements with Germania. She would never actually do it, of course – the lumber, metals, and sheer industry of Germania were simply invaluable to her country – but it was an amusing thought nonetheless.

The next person to be called up was the boy, Alois of Hessan. He had been sitting near the far end of the hall, a mark against his comparatively lower status and of the actions of his family. Thus, it was with no small amount of surprise amongst the other nobles that they watched as he approached the throne.

"Though you are a child, in you beats the heart of a man loyal and true," Albrecht intoned. "You risked everything to warn us all of your father and brother and their co-conspirators schemes. Without you, we would not be here now. For that, I thank you. This war has dragged your family's name through the mud, but by your actions you have redeemed it. Rise, and let all those here bear witness as I proclaim you as the new prince of Hessan."

"You honor me, Your Majesty." Alois's words were nearly lost amidst the clapping that sprang up around him. "The chance to lead my people is all I ever wanted. I swear to you now that I shall serve you faithfully, until the day I die."

On and on the ceremony went, with Albrecht going to painstaking lengths to reward as many people as he could. By this time Henrietta had drunk so much wine that she was starting to feel a little heady. It was difficult not to yawn out of boredom.

Once the feast was over, they moved to the ballroom to enjoy quiet music played by the palace orchestra, and to dance and talk amongst themselves. Henrietta would rather not have attended. The fear and tension of the battle had already spent most of her strength, and she sheer length and tediousness of the feast had drained whatever was left in her reserves. But there was no other choice, if only for the sake of propriety. And just as she expected, she was soon swarmed by the Germanian nobles.

"Princess Henrietta," said one prince. "You simply must come visit my home before you return to Tristain. I would be honored to be allowed to host you and your men."

"No, Your Highness," said another. "Come to mine."

"Please, Your Highness, allow me to escort you on your back to Tristain!"

"No, me!"

"Me!"

Henrietta wanted to clamp her hands over her ears. Me. Mine. Me. Mine. Me. Me. Me. They were as noisy as the crows outside.

"Your Excellencies, may I ask what you are all doing?" said Emperor Albrecht. He pushed his way through the throng of princes and took Henrietta by the hand. "Why, I can scarcely imagine that my fiancee can even breathe right now."

The nobles backed away, some with a sheepish look on their face, like a schoolboy caught while breaking the rules, and others looking more annoyed by the emperor's arrival.

"Might I have this dance, my lady?" Albrecht asked her.

Henrietta could not think of a reason to refuse, so she quietly nodded and allowed herself to be swept out onto the dance floor.

"My lady," Albrecht said quietly, as they slowly swayed along to the music. "There is something we must discuss."

"Is now the right time for it?"

"We could do it later, if you'd like. It is about Tristain. Reconquista. Us."

Henrietta's eyes widened slightly. She nodded for him to continue.

"It is known to all nations that our marriage will cement an alliance between Tristain and Germania," Albrecht said. "But with this rebellion, I fear for your country."

" _My_ country?" Henrietta frowned. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"It is no secret that Reconquista means to conquer Tristain after Albion," Albrecht explained. "Our alliance was meant to discourage such an invasion. But with the recent troubles within my own borders, it may well be that Reconquista believes that Germania no longer intends to uphold our side of the bargain. We must prove otherwise."

"That makes sense," Henrietta said noncommittally. "But regardless of intentions, it _is_ true that your military forces will be otherwise preoccupied."

"Today we have proven to the world that when our two nations unite, we can overcome any foe," Albrecht said. "There is no reason why we should not continue to aid each other."

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Our marriage was intended to take place in two months time," Albrecht said. "I had thought before that would be the most ideal situation. But now I say we ought to be wed sooner. Within the week, perhaps. This would show our continued commitment to each other, and both of our countries will be made stronger for it."

"I must think on this, Your Majesty," Henrietta said, as the song ended. They parted from each other, him bowing and her curtsying. "Might we continue this conversation in the morning?"

Albrecht smiled. "Of course. I shall expect a good answer then."

When the dance ended, Henrietta was initially being guided back to her room by a pair of armed guards. But before they could even turn the corner of the first hallway, she felt that all too familiar warmth in her chest.

"You may leave," Henrietta told the guards.

"But, Your Highness..."

"It's all right." Henrietta smiled. "It would seem that my escort is already here."

From around the corner, Alex stepped into view. Seeing him, the guards turned pale and quickly scampered away.

"What did he have to say?" Alex asked.

"Who?" Henrietta said.

"Albrecht."

"How do you even know I spoke with him?" Henrietta asked honestly. "I am certain you weren't in the hall with us."

"I could see."

Henrietta frowned, but then shrugged and decided to leave it at that. "Let's return to my room first. I'd like to sit."

The hallways were quiet, with most of the palace having now gone to bed. Their footsteps were muffled by the thick, luxurious carpets that covered the floor. When they arrived at her room, Henrietta practically threw herself into her bed. She had never felt anything so soft and wonderful before in her life.

"So?" Alex said. "What did he want?"

Henrietta did not look at him as she lay sprawled on her back on the mattress. "He wants to use you to win the war," she said.

Alex clenched his fists. Briefly, Henrietta elaborated on what she and the emperor had spoken about, and all the while Alex's expression turned more and more into stone.

"Don't," he said when she was finally finished. "He just wants to use you."

"Yes, that's quite obvious." Henrietta sighed. "Still..."

"You can't be serious." Alex stared incredulously at her. "You're actually still _considering_ it?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

" _Why?_ " Alex demanded.

Henrietta slowly sat up and stared evenly at him. "Alex, this marriage was meant to cement a military alliance to protect Tristain, not for us to help preserve the emperor's throne. We do not have the resources to spare for that. But until today, there was simply no other choice. We _needed_ allies. But now..." She trailed off and glanced out the window. "Now we have options. And thus, we have a choice to make."

"It's an easy choice," Alex said, snorting derisively.

"Is it?" Henrietta stood up and approached Alex. "Do you truly understand the choice you're telling me to make?"

"I do. So what?"

"And with that, I am certain you do not understand at all." Henrietta shook her head ruefully. "You asked me before to not change how I think of you, and I'm _trying,_ Alex. I truly am. But I must confess, it is difficult for me."

"You're afraid of me?" If Alex was offended, he gave no sign of it.

"I'm afraid of what might change if I take the choice you have set before me," Henrietta explained. "No one person was ever meant to hold such power. I apologize if I offend, but it's true. And do you know what the most terrifying aspect of power is? It's its convenience. I'm afraid that if I use you as a tool now, then I will never stop. More and more... more and more... I would continue to make you serve Tristain's interests, regardless of what you want, simply because of how _easy_ it is, until eventually I forget the very reason why I summoned you in the first place. I'm afraid, Alex, that I will break the promise we made."

"No," Alex said. "That's not you. You wouldn't do that. That's why I'm here. And even if you did, I'm not some mindless slave. If I don't want to do something, do you really think I will?"

"Well... no," Henrietta admitted. "But..."

"What I want for you is for you to be safe and happy," Alex said, interrupting her. "So don't marry him just because you think you _have_ to. Choose what you want for yourself."

Henrietta chewed her lower lip. "Alex... are you sure? I might ask you to fight against entire armies again. I might ask you to... to kill people again."

"That's fine."

"I may ask you to do something for me, not as a friend, but as the princess of Tristain."

"I know. But I don't think you'll do it often, or unnecessarily."

"I can only promise that I'll try," Henrietta said soberly. "Even so, will you fight for me?"

Alex stared directly into Henrietta's eyes, and nodded.

"Always."

Before he could see the tears that had begun to form in her eyes, Henrietta threw her arms around Alex's neck and hugged him tightly. It felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, a weight that she now realized had been there ever since the uprising of Reconquista. Alex froze for a moment at the sudden contact. Then slowly, awkwardly, he patted her on the back with one hand.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear. "Tomorrow, let's go home."

That night, as Henrietta slept, for the first time in a long while, she was at peace.


	23. Tristain: Part 1

**Chapter 23**

"I'm telling you, Wardes, it was the most incredible thing I've ever seen."

Viscount Wardes sat at his desk holding a sheaf of paper in hand. He was only partially listening to what Marrok was saying, with most of the subordinate knight's words going through one ear andout the other. It was not that Wardes did not place any value on Marrok's thoughts and opinions; simply that he had long since learned to place more trust in Marrok's written reports than his oral ones.

It was a peculiar quirk of Marrok's, that what he said could often be so exaggerated and divorced from the truth, whereas what he wrote was typically far more grounded and straightforward. Wardes hypothesized that this was because Marrok hated writing, and so tried to get his point across in as few words as possible whenever he was forced to do so. Wardes had to hold back a small, vindictive smile at that. He remembered how much of a struggle it had been to compel Marrok to learn how to read and write.

"... destroyed the entire army and... Wardes? Are you listening to me? Don't ignore me, you bastard."

"I _am_ listening." Wardes sighed and set the last page of parchment down with the rest. His face was grim and stony, as he tapped a finger on the table. "But as usual, you are looking only at what lies closest to the surface, whilst failing to notice that which lays underneath."

"What are you talking about? The familiar is a threat to Reconquista. It singlehandedly destroyed the entire Germanian rebel army. If we don't find a way to kill it, it's going to do the same thing to us."

"You are correct, but before that there is an even more pressing matter to consider."

"Such as?"

Wardes picked up the topmost sheet of parchment again and gestured at it with his free hand. "In Aubergine, you said that a group of assassins made an attempt on the princess's life, and that after the familiar killed and devoured them, he went off in search of a man named Ingemar. A man whom you later report is the one responsible for hiring those assassins. Thus, the question is this: How did the familiar know of him before anyone else? I doubt he had ever met the man before. More to the point, how on earth could he have known that he was the assassins' employer?"

Marrok sucked in a breath, as realization dawned on his face. "You think he can... what... steal someone's memories by eating them?" The knight let out a low whistle. "That's useful."

"But not for us," Wardes replied somberly. "It does seem like the most likely explanation, however. Which is why, before anything else, we must confirm this ability of his. If we do not, all our plans may yet be discovered and undone before it is time for us to act."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Did you know that Fouquet was captured while you were away?" Wardes said. "It seems that my fiancee and a few of her peers chased her down and arrested her, after she made an attempt on a relic within the Academy's vault. Given the extent of her crimes, it is guaranteed that she will be tried and executed. Too many nobles would be outraged by anything less.

"To what lengths do you think she'll go to for her freedom?"

* * *

Henrietta stood on the balcony of her solar, which overlooked the lake behind the palace. Its calm, serene waters reflected the sunlight like an enormous mirror, transforming it into a brilliant sea of shining jewels. When it was like this, Henrietta found it difficult to believe that this peaceful lake might once have been made to house a ferocious water dragon. She smiled and breathed in deeply, letting it out with a satisfied sigh. Tristania's air had never tasted so sweet to her.

For the first time in years, Henrietta felt free again. Intellectually, she knew that so long as she wore the crown, she would never truly be free of her duties and obligations, but the enormous weight that had been pressing down on her ever since her engagement to Emperor Albrecht had been decided – in that one aspect, at least – had finally been lifted from her shoulders.

 _When was the last time I felt like this?_ Henrietta wondered. As far as she could recall, it would have had to have been during her childhood, when the most she had to worry about was who got to play the queen and who had to play the knight in her games of make-believe with Louise Valliere. She relished this moment, this sense of utter liberation, for as long as she could. Every second was a precious gift. But when the guard stationed outside the door of her solar knocked and announced the arrival of Cardinal Mazarin, she knew that it was time for this dream to end.

The Cardinal arrived with a manservant in tow, who carried in his arms sheaves of parchment and bundles of scrolls. These were deposited on Henrietta's desk, so high that as she came to sit down, she was almost hidden completely behind them. After bowing respectfully, the servant thus departed.

"Your Highness." Mazarin bowed in greeting. "I trust you slept well last night?"

"Better than I have in a very long time," Henrietta replied, pleased.

"That is good to hear. Now, the morning reports await."

Henrietta let the ghost of a smile flicker across her lips. "Several mornings, it looks like," she remarked.

"Unfortunately, the world does not stop moving just because we are no longer present in one location or the next," Mazarin said gravely. "Many things have happened while we were in Germania, and I thought that now that you've had a day to rest, it would be a good time to catch up on them all."

"I can't say that you're wrong," Henrietta said, sighing. "Very well. Let's get this over with."

"I will begin with the most recent, then." Mazarin picked up two stacks of open letters. He nodded towards the letters in his left hand. "These are the letters of complaint we have received from nobles and other notable, both within and without Tristain. They protest your decision to unilaterally break off your engagement to the emperor, and beg that you reconsider."

"I expected as much. The Germanians we cannot do anything about. But do you think the Tristanian nobles might be satisfied if we told them of Alex's accomplishments?"

"Unlikely, Your Highness. Those rumors already circulate throughout the country, but who can be blamed for not believing in them? Even for we who were there and witnessed your familiar's strength with our own eyes find it difficult to accept. Easier to think that one's eyes are failing."

"Is that what you believe?" Henrietta asked in a neutral tone.

"Alas," Mazarin sighed, "I am not so old that my eyes have gone dim."

"What of the other letters?" Henrietta gestured to the stack in Mazarin's right hand.

"These are the opposite. The nobles who penned these letters commend you for your wisdom in not tying your bloodline to that of a foreign barbarian king's. Many have also invited you to a number of balls and feasts and the like that they wish to throw in your honor. I will spare you the details and simply tell you that they hope to win your hand in royal marriage."

Henrietta rolled her eyes. "Of course they do," she said. Then she frowned at Mazarin. "Cardinal, I had believed that you would be angrier for what I did." She still remembered the uproar she had caused in Vindobona when she announced that she was breaking off her engagement to Emperor Albrecht. Yet now that she thought about it again, she also recalled how unusually calm Mazarin had been all throughout the commotion and on their way back home.

"There is nothing to be angry about. You made the right decision."

 _That_ took Henrietta by surprise, so much so that she felt like she had been punched in the face. "You were the one who brokered the agreement in the first place," she blurted out. "How are you _not_ angry?"

Mazarin shrugged. "It is true that I suggested the marriage alliance to Germania, but I did so then because at the time I believed it was the only way to keep Tristain safe from the predations of Reconquista. But circumstances have changed since then. Your familiar possesses strength enough to guard our nation from those rebels, such that we no longer must have Germania on our side. Of course, it would still have been preferable to be guarded by two wands rather than one, but the schism between your familiar and the emperor has made that all but an impossibility. Were you to marry the emperor, I fear you risk losing the heart of your familiar. Moreover, with Germania undergoing its own internal strife, it has simply become too costly for us to follow through on the original agreement."

"He has a name, you know," Henrietta said irritably. "It is not a particularly difficult one to say either."

"As you say, Your Highness." Mazarin bowed briefly. "But on that note, there is news I must share in regards to your familiar... Alex."

"Go on."

"Do you recall those rumors that surrounded him and his summoning before we left for Germania?" Mazarin said grimly. "It would appear that they never stopped. Far from it, they have only grown in our absence, like wildfire. From highest noble to lowest commoner, people whisper of a demon dwelling within the palace. Of the princess who consorts with that very demon. They speak of how it feasts upon the flesh of men, and that you have been satisfying its unholy appetite with your own people. Some have even suggested that the Church lead an investigation as to the veracity of these claims, though I doubt that this will lead anywhere."

"But that is ridiculous," Henrietta exclaimed. "What reason do they have to fear him so greatly when he has done them no harm?"

"I would imagine that a part of it is because of how human he appears to be. When a person knows that something is not human yet it looks so very much like one, it inspires in them a certain dread that is unlike anything else. But even so, you are not wrong to believe that these rumors have taken on an unusual life of their own. The degree to which they have spread leads me to believe that it may yet be possible that there is someone responsible for deliberately fanning these flames."

"You think that Reconquista may be involved?"

"They do seem like the most likely culprit," Mazarin said gravely. "There is no one else who would benefit as much as they from a weakened trust in the crown."

"Then we cannot let this stand," Henrietta declared. "Nor do I wish to let it. We must find a way to counter these rumors."

"That will prove difficult. People's minds are not so easily changed."

"Will it?" Henrietta tilted her head and smiled. "If the people believe Alex to be a demon, then all we need to do is prove that he is not. We can throw charities and festivals and have Alex be the one to lead them. He can be the face of it, and thus the people will come to understand that he is not someone they need to fear."

"That idea is not without promise. Yet even so, it will not work."

"And why is that?" Henrietta said, daring the Cardinal to prove her wrong.

"You know your familiar better than I, Your Highness. So ask yourself this: Is this something that he would truly be willing to do?"

Henrietta wilted almost instantly. "Oh," she said softly.

Mazarin was right. In all likelihood, Alex did not care a single copper coin about what the people thought of him. So while she could certainly still ask, there was not a single part of Henrietta's body that believed Alex would ever agree to throw a festival in his own name. "Fuck that," is what he would most likely say in response.

"Well, it is something to consider," Mazarin said. "I do have some good news to share, Your Highness. In fact, I believe you will be very pleased to hear it."

"What is it?"

"Near a fortnight ago, Fouquet has at last been captured," Mazarin said. "And the youngest daughter of the Valliere family was among those who caught her."

"Is that true?" Henrietta was on her feet in an instant. "Louise did? Truly?"

"Yes. And from what I'm given to understand, she played a major role in catching the thief."

"Why, that's wonderful news!" Henrietta cheered. "Cardinal, surely it would be remiss for us to not reward her for this accomplishment. A public ceremony. She could be granted a title of her own. Perhaps a chevalier?"

"If that is what you wish, then I have no reason to protest," Mazarin said, chuckling in a grandfatherly sort of way. "Fouquet has been a thorn in the side of all nobles across Halkeginia, not just in Tristain, so I doubt that anyone would contest granting her a title."

"Excellent. I want you to begin the preparations at once. There ceremony is to be held at the end of this month. Oh, I must write to Louise and congratulate her... and perhaps one to her family as well."

"You seem more excited about this than Ms. Valliere herself." Mazarin smiled. "By all accounts, she has apparently been quite stoic about the matter."

"She's too dignified to boast so shamelessly, after all," Henrietta declared.

"In that case, wouldn't a public ceremony go against her wishes?"

"Perhaps," Henrietta allowed. "But, Cardinal, I _want_ to do this for her. Louise has never been afforded the recognition she deserves. This is a chance to change all of that. To prove to the world that she is far more than the failure, the _zero,_ they believe her to be. If it means going against her personal wishes, then I will simply have to apologize once it is over. But she deserves this, Cardinal. She truly does."

"I understand, Your Highness."

"Oh, and before I forget, you mentioned that there were others who helped capture Fouquet? Who are they? They must be properly rewarded as well."

"I was wondering when you would ask me that, or if you planned to at all." Mazarin's lips twitched briefly. "There were two others. You've met them already, in fact. They are Tabitha and Kirche von Zerbst."

"Then I must send a letter to Joanna as well," Henrietta decided. "She and her husband will be quite pleased to hear the news, I'm sure."

"Yes, though I must confess how strange it is to hear that a Zerbst and a Valliere would work together like this." Mazarin stroked his long, grey beard. "Let alone that they are to be celebrated in the same place, at the same time. Do you plan on extending an invitation to the Zerbst as well?"

"I must." Henrietta grimaced at the thought, now that Mazarin had planted it in her head. The two families had historically been rivals, so she could only hope that they would not come to blows. "Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"As you say."

"In any event, is there anything else?"

"None so pressing that it cannot wait. That was the last of the matters that require your immediate attention."

"Then you are excused."

Mazarin nodded, bowed one last time, and left the room. Henrietta went over to the balcony again to cast one last look at the lake that lay beyond, and smiled. But slowly her smile began to fade, and once it had disappeared entirely, she turned and left the room herself.

From her solar, she made her way through the hallways until she arrived at an enormous set of doors. They were carved from pure white oak and with a blooming lily engraved in the center, split in half where the two doors met. She knocked and waited, then knocked and waited.

"Mother?" Henrietta said softly. "Are you in there?"

"Leave me be, Daughter. I'm tired."

Henrietta pursed her lips tightly. Queen Marianne's voice was no longer as strong as it had been before they left for Germania – not that it was strong then either – but now, in addition to the grief and sorrow that was fraught within her words, a sense of utter defeat bled through her tone as well. Henrietta couldn't help but to wonder how much of it was because she had not been here to daily try to lift her spirits. She knew that was being unnecessarily harsh on herself, though.

Her mother had been on this decline regardless of what she did or didn't do.

"Mother, so much has happened in Germania," Henrietta said, placing as much energy as she could in her voice. "Please open this door so I may tell you about them."

"I don't care about Germania, nor do I care about what happened there. Now leave me be."

"I will not. You cannot stay in there forever, Mother. Please come out, or else let me in."

"My room, my tomb, my crypt. There is little difference in my eyes."

"Mother!" Henrietta cried out. She was on the verge of pounding on the door with her fists, or even drawing her wand and breaking it down by force. But by now the queen had stopped responding, and Henrietta could not bring herself to act on that impulse. With a defeated sigh, she turned and left her mother be.

However, just because she had given up on reaching her mother today did not mean she had given up entirely. Instead, as Henrietta's heels clicked on the marble floor, she found herself filled with renewed resolve. Her mother's grief and the rumors surrounding Alex. These were not matters that would fix themselves with enough time, nor were the people in question willing to do anything about them. So the task fell to her. She would show her mother that there were yet things to live for in this world. She would show the people of Tristain that they were wrong about Alex. He was not a demon they needed to fear.

Her engagement was ended, but there was still much work left for her to do.

It was time to get to it.


End file.
